


Sunday Game of Sparring Hearts

by BillieShears



Category: Lovely Little Losers, Nothing Much to Do
Genre: Drabbles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2016-02-10
Packaged: 2018-03-16 08:53:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 78
Words: 53,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3482093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BillieShears/pseuds/BillieShears
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>NMTD drabbles, originally posted on tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fake Dating (Pedrazar Style)!

**Author's Note:**

> I've been writing a lot of drabbles on tumblr, so I thought I'd move them over here in one neat collection! this one was requested by anon, who wanted pedrazar fake dating.

Whenever Balthazar played a gig, there was almost always a straggling fan who lingered behind to talk to him, and ask him out for coffee or dinner or a drink. Balthazar had never been very good at turning people down – he hated the idea of hurting anyone’s feelings. He would always thank them profusely, then blush and stammer out a polite ‘no thank you’. Pedro watched this happen a few times from a distance, a bemused smile on his face, before he finally took pity on him and stepped in.

“Hey, great show,” He greeted, coolly taking Balth’s hand in his own, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, “who’s your friend?”

“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you had a boyfriend,” the fan – in this instance, a girl who looked like she couldn’t have been older than fifteen – turned bright pink.

“Oh, Pedro’s not –” Balthazar began, but Pedro cut him off.

“Honest mistake,” he said pleasantly, giving Balth’s hand a squeeze, “no worries. Take care, okay?” Then he’d hoisted Balth’s guitar over his shoulder and steered him out, holding his hand until they got to the car.

“Thanks,” Balthazar said sheepishly. Pedro grinned.

“Hey, man, what are friends for?”

He did the same thing after most of Balth’s shows, after that. Ursula was, as usual, the only one who noticed. Other than Pedro, she was the only one who faithfully turned up to every single one of Balth’s gigs, and the only one who stuck around afterwards. She cornered him when once when Balthazar was busy packing up his guitar.

“How long do you intend to  _pretend_  to be his boyfriend before you ask him out for real?”

“Very funny, Ursula.”

“Not joking,” she said, quirking her brow. “If you don’t like him, fine. But if that’s the case, don’t go around pretending to be his boyfriend all the time.”

After his next gig, Pedro waited until almost everyone had cleared out. Ursula bid Balthazar goodbye, shooting Pedro a meaningful look on the way out.

“You ready?” Balthazar asked as Pedro approached, slinging his guitar over his shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m ready,” Pedro held up his keys. “Say, Balth… would you ever want to go out sometime?”

“Ah,” Balthazar chuckled, “a fake date with my fake boyfriend, you mean?”

“Actually, I was thinking more like a real-date,” Pedro raked his hand through his hair, “with the potential to be your real boyfriend, if all goes well?”

“Yeah, okay,” Balthazar said, grinning, “Yeah, I’d love to. And hey, now it won’t be a lie when you hold my hand after show.”

“A definite bonus,” Pedro agreed, already reaching for his hand.


	2. Coffee Shop Wars!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For jesuisdansserdaigle, who requested Ben and Bea trying to out-work each other at a coffee shop.

“Due to budget cuts and low sales these past few months, I can only afford to keep one of my new hires,” their boss said apologetically, “I’ll be making my decision by the end of this week.”

“Well, clearly you know what you have to do,” Beatrice said, as soon as their boss was out of ear shot.

“Clearly,” Ben scoffed, “I have to positively destroy you.”

“You have to step down,” Beatrice corrected, “tell him you quit.”

“Why do I have to be the one to quit?” Ben demanded. “I’m the one saving up for a new car!”

“And  _I’m_ saving up for travelling during my gap year,” she countered, “you already have a car!”

“Yeah, and it’s terrible. Face it, Bea, I’m not quitting.”

“You have to!”

“Are you surrendering already?” Ben taunted, “You know I’m better at this job than you are, you know the customers like me better, so instead of trying to beat me you’re begging me to forfeit. Very disappointing, Beatrice.”

“Oh, you are going to eat your words, dickface,” She glared. “I am going to  _annihilate_ you.”

They both spent the week trying to do just that. Ben  _was_  better with the customers, but Beatrice was much quicker with their orders. Ben took it upon himself to mop the floors at the end of all of his shifts, even when he wasn’t asked to do so; and Beatrice started skipping her lunch breaks to clean the bathrooms. They both scrambled to be the first to pick up someone else’s dropped shifts.

Towards the end of the week, the afternoon before their boss said he was going to make his decision, he told them he’d need one person to stay a little later and clean all the machines after closing.

“I’ll do it!” Both Ben and Bea volunteered at once.

“Well, I only need one of you,” Their boss shrugged, “work it out amongst yourselves and let me know.”

“Back off, Benedick,” Beatrice snarled, “I’m gonna be the one who helps out tonight.”

“No way! It’s definitely gonna be me!” He snapped.

“Back off or I’ll –” Bea hesitated, then grabbed a canister of whipped cream, a sinister smile filling her face.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Ben challenged, crossing his arms.

“Wouldn’t I?” She quipped, before spraying the whipped cream directly in his face.

Ben’s jaw dropped, wiping whipped cream out of his eyes.

“Didn’t think you had it in you, Duke,” He admitted, “but you should never start a fight you can’t finish.”

“I think I just finished it, dickfa–” Before she could finish her sentence, Ben had grabbed the caramel topping and squirted it directly into her hair. It dripped down her face and onto her apron, and all down the back of her neck. Her eyes went wide with horror, and though her mouth was open, she couldn’t get out more than a shocked sputter.

“So!” Ben clapped, “I think we’re done here. I’ll go ahead let him know I’ll be the one who’s staying late to help.”

Just as he turned to go, Beatrice grabbed the back of his collar and pulled. There was a sudden rush of cold all down his back – she’d dumped an entire container of iced coffee down his shirt. Ice cubes littered the floor, coffee spreading across the tiles.

“ _What the hell!_ ” He shouted. Beatrice cackled. He lunged for the display, grabbing what was left of one of the pies – half a tin of banana cream. Beatrice ducked just in time – and the pie wound up slammed right in their boss’s face.

Five minutes later, they were sitting outside on the curb, sticky and without a job.

“Well,” Ben sighed, “I can’t say I’m shocked.”

“Nah,” Bea agreed, “kind of figured it would end that way eventually.”


	3. First Date!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For anon, who requested Ben and Bea's first date.

They went on their first proper date after everything settled down with their group, a few weeks after the unspeakable birthday party. She wore one of Hero’s dresses and let her do her makeup, and Ben brought her flowers and wore a jacket and tie. They went out to dinner, and found themselves stumbling over small talk.

“This is weird,” Beatrice said, finally, after they’d suffered through their meals and were waiting for the check. “I mean, it’s not just me – this is weird, right?”

“Totally weird,” Ben’s shoulders relaxed, relieved. “I mean – I like you! Don’t get me wrong! It’s just that this is –”

“So not us, right?” She finished, nodding enthusiastically, “I feel like we’re playing dress up or something. I hate this dress, I can barely breathe. And I feel like a clown with all this makeup on.”

“Right?! I feel like this tie is choking me to death,” He said, loosening it. “And the jacket was my mum’s idea. So were those ugly flowers.”

“ _So_  ugly,” Beatrice grimaced, “I  _hate_  carnations.”

“Here’s an idea – how about we stop at your house so you can change, then we just go to my house, watch a movie, and pretend this part of the date never happened?” Ben suggested.

“Good plan,” Beatrice commended, “but let’s marathon Game of Thrones instead.” Ben grinned, pulling off his tie.

“I knew there was a reason I liked you.”

 


	4. Ask Queen Margaret!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For anon, who requested Meg relentlessly teasing Bea about Ben.

It wasn’t too unusual for Bea to show up at Meg’s house unannounced after dinner – they were long passed courtesy texts and asking for invitation, at this point. Meg’s mum let her in and sent her on up to Meg’s room.

“Thank god you’re here,” Meg said, not even looking up from the papers spread across her bed, “I do  _not_ understand the chem homework.”

“Oh, yeah, that was tricky,” Bea agreed, dropping her bag and sitting next to Meg, who scooched over to make room, “but I actually came here for advice about a different subject.”

“What, like history?” Meg chewed at the edge of her pen absently, “because I haven’t gotten that far yet.”

“No. Um… a more hands-on subject.” Meg looked to her expectantly. Bea groaned. “Sex, okay? I need your advice on sex.”

“Oh. My. God!” Meg clapped her hands together excitedly, bouncing on her knees, “Beatrice Duke! You’re totally gonna get the Bene _dick!_ ”

“I guess it was too much to hope we could’ve gotten through this conversation without making that joke…” She sighed. “Ben and I have talked about it, and we decided that we’re ready, and normally I’d talk to Hero about something like this, but –”

“But this is my area of expertise,” Meg grinned wickedly, and shoved her homework unceremoniously off the bed, papers flying everywhere. She flopped across the bed and reached for her bedside table, opening the top drawer and pulling out a shoebox. She placed it between them, carefully removing the lid and setting it aside. There was a rainbow of wrappers and bottles and other paraphernalia inside, all neatly organized in rows.

“Are you kidding me? I’ve seen your locker,  _you are not this tidy_!” Bea laughed.

“Duh, priorities,” Meg waved her off. “Okay. I’ve got everything you could need in here. For condoms, we’ve got ribbed for her pleasure, high sensation, ultra sensitive, flavored condoms, extra lubed – you’ll probably want that one, since it’s your first time. Oh, and speaking of lubes, I’ve got some choices. I recommend this one – it heats up after you rub it on!”

“What, like icy-hot?!” Bea cried, horrified, “Um, I think that might be a little intense for the first time.”

“True,” Meg hummed thoughtfully. She grabbed a few extra lubed condoms, then with an added wink at Bea, a few of the ribbed ones and tucked them into Bea’s bag. Then she took Bea’s hands and leaned in close, so their foreheads were almost pressed together. “Are you nervous?”

“A little,” Bea admitted. “I don’t like not knowing what to expect. People always say it’s going to hurt, and –”

“Those people are either lying to scare you or having bad sex,” Meg reassured her, “if you just take it slow, it’s not going to hurt. And don’t be afraid to laugh. Sex is awesome, but it’s also kind of weird. Especially your first time! There’s gonna be awkward fumbling and weird new experiences and sounds you don’t expect – so you have to be able to laugh. And I mean, it’s _Ben,_  so laughing at him shouldn’t be an issue for you.”

“Huh,” Bea let out a breath, “I actually feel a little better now. Thanks, Meg.”

“You can repay me for the condoms and easing your fear by telling me absolutely  _everything_ afterwards,” She said, “then maybe I can make a video calling you the Queen of Scream.”

“Ouch! Okay, I deserved that,” Bea winced, “Sorry about that.”

“Forgiven and forgotten,” Meg shrugged it off. “I mean it, though – I want to know everything. Size, shape, weird birth marks – the whole nine yards. Spare me no details.”

“You’re sick,” Bea shoved her playfully, making a face, “I’m starting to regret coming to you for help.”

“You won’t regret coming to me when you’re  _coming_  with Ben!”

“That’s enough! I’m leaving!” Beatrice jumped up, grabbing her bag, “thank you for your help and your disgusting wordplay, but I need to get out of here now.”

“Yeah,  _get out_  so you can  _get off_ ,” Meg called after her, practically cackling, “I always knew you wanted the Bene _dick!_ ”

“I’m  _still_  going to fight you!”


	5. The Morning After!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For anon, who requested the morning after Ben and Bea's first time.

Bea woke up just as Ben was coming back into the room, a mug of tea in each hand.

“Morning,” He greeted, handing her one of the mugs and kissing her quickly, “just a heads up: my mum’s awake and roaming about the house, so you’re effectively trapped in my room for the rest of your life. Or until she leaves. Whichever comes first.”

“You were supposed to wake me up so I could sneak out early,” she accused, “you set an alarm and everything!”

“I know, but it went off and you were still sleeping, and you looked really peaceful and pretty, and I was enjoying sleeping next to you too much,” He defended, “even though you snore.”

“I do not snore!” She cried, affronted, “how dare you.  _You_ snore.”

“Compromise: we both snore.” Ben lifted the blankets and climbed back into bed with her. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she said, curling into his side. “Realistically, is your mum leaving any time soon?”

“Nope. Today is her cleaning day. She literally doesn’t leave the house – just deep cleans every single room. Except mine, of course, she says it’s a cesspool and she won’t come near it. So you’re safe.”

“I need to be home by eleven, though,” Beatrice eyed the clock, which blinked 10:32. “The Aunties are redecorating, and we’ve all been recruited to go with them to help pick out furniture. What are the chances you can distract your mum long enough for me to slip out the front door?”

“Zero. She’s cleaning the kitchen right now, she’ll totally see you. And once she starts cleaning, there’s really no distracting her. Other than setting the house on fire, which I think might be a little extreme.” He glanced around the room, contemplating. “There is always the window. I’m on the first floor, so it’s not like there’s a drop or anything. There are a lot of rose bushes, though, so be careful of the thorns.”

“I can’t believe I’m actually going to climb out the window,” Beatrice sighed, “but it’s not like I have much of a choice.” She climbed out of bed and reached for her jeans, shimmying into them.

“It’s much more fun watching you take them off,” Ben complained. “Are you sure you have to go? I guarantee you’ll have a better time trapped in my bedroom than you will at any furniture store.”

“Someone thinks rather highly of himself,” Bea teased, slipping on her shoes. She pushed the window open and tossed her leg over. “Thanks for the tea.”

“Thanks for the sex,” He replied. Bea shoved him, then slipped the rest of the way out the window. She stuck her head back in, kissing him goodbye. “Really though – I feel like it’s especially important to tell you I love you, this morning.”

“Obviously I know that,” She scoffed, but her face softened, “And I love you, too. Leave the window unlocked – I’ll sneak back in when the Aunties are finished with me.”

“Aye aye, Captain,” he said dutifully, and watched her run through the yard, pausing at the edge of the lawn to blow him a kiss and flip him the bird before sprinting the rest of the way home.


	6. Priorities!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For anon, who requested Balthazar getting knocked out by a football at one of Pedro's games.

The first thing Balthazar saw when he came to was Pedro’s worried face. He took in his surroundings slowly – his head was in Pedro’s lap, and they were on the football pitch, and he had a raging headache. Dozens of people were circled around them – half football players, half spectators.

“He’s waking up,” Pedro announced, then waved his hand in front of Balthazar’s face, “you okay?”

“Uh… I think so,” He tried to sit up, but Pedro wouldn’t let him.

“Don’t get up yet,” he advised, “just take a minute.”

“What happened?”

“Ben’s kick went too wide –  _like it always does_!” He shouted the last part over his shoulder, aimed directly at a very embarrassed Benedick. “The ball got you right in the head – are you sure you’re okay?”

“That explains the wicked headache,” He reached up to touch his right temple, which throbbed painfully.

“You might have a concussion,” Pedro fretted. “Okay, come on, let’s get you up. I’ll take you to the hospital, just in case.”

“We’ve still got half a game to play,” Ben reminded him, fidgeting nervously over his shoulder.

“So I should stick around and take anyone else you’ve potentially concussed to the hospital in a big group when it’s over?” Pedro quipped, as he eased Balthazar up, wrapping an arm around his back to steady him. “Play the rest without me, I wanna make sure Balth’s okay.”

He led him off the field and towards his car, taking care to open the door for him and help him into the passenger seat.

“Thanks for doing this,” Balthazar said, as Pedro slid into the driver’s seat, “I know this was a big game for you guys.”

“What, are you kidding?” Pedro said, “The game isn’t my top priority. You are.”

Balthazar smiled.

“Thanks,” he repeated, and turned to look out the window so Pedro wouldn’t see how much he was blushing.


	7. Graffiti Crimes!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For puppets-and-papercranes, who requested Bea catching Ben correcting grafitti, thinking it's ridiculous at first, then joining him because she can't stand poor grammar.

“What’re you doing, dickface?” Ben looked up from the wall he’d been concentrating on. Beatrice stood a few feet away, staring quizzically at him and sneering. “Did you get detention or something?”

“I’m here voluntarily, I’ll have you know,” He informed her hotly, “This graffiti is downright embarrassing. The spelling and grammar are so poor! It’s inexcusable. You’d think that at a school, of all places, the graffiti would at least be grammatically correct.”

“Correcting graffiti? That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” Despite this, she dropped her backpack to the ground and came up beside him, looking over the wall. Her gaze settled on the words  _your a bitch_ and a particularly unflattering picture of their chem teacher. She wrinkled her nose. “This really is disgraceful. Give me the marker.”

“See what I mean?!” He thrust the marker at her, and she added an apostrophe, tacking an ‘e’ on the end. “I mean, they’re right, she’s genuinely one of the worst humans on earth. But they could at least take the time to be grammatically correct about it! And look at this one.” He pointed at one that read  _4 a gud tyme call,_ with several different phone numbers written beneath.

“Blech! Why would anyone call someone who can’t even take the time to spell out their crappy chat up lines?” She pushed the marker back at Ben. “Fix it, I can’t even stand to look at it.” She whipped out her phone and started typing out a message.

“What are you doing?” Ben asked, pausing his corrections.

“Texting Hero. I’m clearing my schedule for the rest of the day – have you  _seen_ how much graffiti is on the wall? I hope you brought more markers, because this is gonna take  _hours_.”


	8. First I Love You (Beadick Style)!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For anon, who requested the first time Ben and Bea say "i love you".

“Anyone who thinks otherwise is just – you’re all wrong, you’re just wrong,” She huffs. Her shoulders sag, defeated. She can feel Ben staring at her, drilling holes into her.

“I love you,” he tells her, camera still running.

“That,” She says, “is not really very convenient right now.” She reaches for her necklace, rolling the beads between her fingers.

“I know,” he says, “Hero’s the priority at the moment, and she should be – but I just… had to tell you.”

She kisses him – just once, and all too quickly.

“What’s even less convenient,” she says, fingers pressed into Ben’s chest, her mouth barely in an inch from his but still too far, “is that I love you, too.”


	9. The Tycoon of Tenderness!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For anon, who requested Pedro asking Ben for relationship advice, and Ben being smugly offering some surprisingly good advice.

“I need your advice on something.” Pedro drummed his fingers on the table, knowing even as he said it that he’d wind up regretting it. It didn’t take long for him to be proved right.

“My advice?” Ben repeated, looking up from the sink, where he’d been washing dishes, “You, Pedro Donaldson, student leader, captain of the football team, Prince of Messina High, orchestrator of the Love Gods, are asking for my advice? My, how the tables have turned!”

“Cut it out, Ben, I’m serious,” Pedro frowned. “Also, none of those things really apply anymore. We’re almost a year out of high school.”

“Irrelevant,” Ben dismissed, “my point still stands. So! What sort of advice are we talking here?”

“Me and Balthazar’s anniversary is coming up –”

“So it’s relationship advice!” Ben was downright gleeful. “I really want you to take a moment and appreciate the irony here, Pedro. Really soak it up.”

“As unbelievable as it is – and I do mean  _truly unbelievable_  – out of all of our friends, you’re the one who has the longest and happiest relationship,” Pedro shook his head. “I don’t get it, but obviously you’re doing something right.”

“What I’m hearing is, you look up to me,” Ben grinned, “you model your relationship after my own. Bea and I are the lighthouse guiding you through the lonely night to a happy day.”

“Let the record show I literally said none of that.”

“The record will show no such thing,” Ben replied. “So! I believe you were about to ask me, the King of Romance, master of all things relationship, for advice?”

“I have a feeling Bea would argue that you’re not the King of Romance,” Pedro said wryly. “Anyway – I don’t know what to get him. I know he needs a better case for his guitar, but that seems too practical for an anniversary gift.”

“Practical isn’t necessarily bad,” Ben pointed out.

“I know, but it’s our first anniversary. I want to do better than just ‘practical’. I want to really surprise him, you know?”

“Okay,” Ben stroked his chin thoughtfully, “okay, how’s this? You get him the guitar case – boom, a practical gift that he needs and will appreciate – but you fill it with the romantic stuff. Notes you’ve written each other, pictures of the two of you, flowers if you’re in to that sort of thing. Top it off with a heartfelt card, and voila, the perfect anniversary gift.”

“Wow,” Pedro regarded Ben with pleasant surprise, “that’s actually a pretty good idea, man.”

“I think you mean a great idea,” Ben corrected, “the best idea you’ve ever heard. But who would expect anything less from the King of Romance? The Sultan of Seduction? The –”

“That’s my cue to leave,” Pedro cut him off, rising from the table, “thanks for the help.”

“It’s my pleasure, as the Prince of Passion. The Tycoon of Tenderness.”

“I’m officially no longer listening!”


	10. The Tycoon of Tenderness Part 2!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For jesuisdansserdaigle, who requested a follow-up to the last drabble where Ben tells Bea that Pedro asked him for relationship advice.

When Bea came over that night, she let herself in (as she always did) and found Ben on the couch, watching Doctor Who.

“Hello, love,” he greeted, muting the television.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Beatrice frowned, “I was looking for my other boyfriend. Maybe you’ve heard of him. The King of Romance? Sometimes called the Sultan of Seduction?”

“Ah – I see you’ve talked to Pedro,” Ben said, “did he tell you the part where I gave him excellent relationship advice?”

“Sultan of Seduction? Really? And what was your  _seduction_  of me, then? Talking to me about olives? Vlogging from my bath? Waiting until my cousin is emotionally devastated and choosing that as the exact right moment to profess your undying love?” Bea asked, incredulous.

“You mock me, but the joke is on you, dearest. It worked, didn’t it?” He waggled his eyebrows at her. “And do you know  _why_  Pedro came to me for advice?”

“Because he couldn’t find me?” She suggested. Ben paused to consider.

“Actually, maybe. Regardless! He came to me because he said – and prepare yourself, because you’re going to want to high five over this – you and I have the longest and happiest relationship out of anyone he knows.” He held out his hand and she slapped it.

“Of course we do,” She boasted, “we’re the best.”

“I agree with you there,” He said, “as I’m sure you agree with my title as the Sultan of Seduction?”

“Nope,” she dropped onto the couch next to him, “can’t say I’ve ever met anyone who fits that description. Sultan of Snark, maybe.”

“If I’m the Sultan of Snark, you’re the Tycoon of Terrible Puns.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“No wonder Pedro is jealous of us,” Ben said wistfully, “we’re the wittiest people he knows.”


	11. Crush(ed)!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For anon, who requested Pedro having a crush on the new football coach, who he doesn't realize is Leo.

In his defense, he hadn’t  _known_ that the hot new football coach was Leo. He hadn’t seen Leo for a few years – he was a good deal older than him as it was, and he’d graduated and gone off to University, so Pedro had really sort of forgotten about Leo entirely.

Their old Coach had announced that he’d be moving at the end of the season, but assured them he’d found an excellent replacement. At the end of their last game, he introduced him – and Pedro felt his stomach flip, heart in his throat. When the new coach looked directly at him, smiled, and waved, Pedro forced himself to keep cool, held back his enormous smile, and casually nodded at him. Having a coach as hot as this one did not bode well for Pedro.

When he got home that afternoon, his parents informed him they’d be going to the Duke’s house for a big congratulatory dinner, since their oldest had moved back and was celebrating a new job. He didn’t think much of it, at the time.

When they arrived at the Duke’s, Pedro looked around for Hero – they weren’t super close, not like he and Bea, but they did go way back and he enjoyed hanging out with her at these family things – and found her in the kitchen, deep in conversation with the new football coach.

His stomach flipped again, but this time with something more like dread. Why would the new coach be here, unless –

“Oh, Leo, you remember Pedro,” Hero beamed up at her big brother.

“Of course I do!” Leo hopped up from his chair and strolled over, ruffling Pedro’s hair, “How could I forget little P? Of course, last time I saw you, you were way smaller. Glad to see you’re on the football team, mate!”

Well. That was one way to effectively kill a crush.


	12. Caught in the Act!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For anon, who requested Ben and Bea getting caught making out and getting mercilessly teased by the rest of the gang.

“Where’d Bea and Ben go?” Ursula asked, glancing around the room, “They were here a minute ago.”

“Hmm. The happy couple is missing. Gosh, I wonder what they could  _possibly_  be up to,” John tapped his chin, pretending to mull it over.

“We all know what they’re up to,” Meg jumped to her feet, “so let’s go find them and have some fun!”

“We should leave them alone,” Hero fretted, “Bea was saying there have been so many graduation parties lately, she and Ben haven’t had a minute to themselves. They probably just wanted to find a quiet corner to talk.”

“Oh, I’m sure whatever they’re doing involves their mouths, but they’re definitely not talking,” Meg said, reaching for Ursula’s camera, “We’re totally filming this. They’re probably in the bath.”

“No way. They’re definitely in a closet somewhere.” Pedro shook his head. “I’m telling you, when Ben gets a couple of drinks in him, he thinks he’s sneaky or something.”

“Do you have a broom closet or something?” Ursula asked, turning to Balthazar.

“There’s a linen closet upstairs,” He suggested.  

“Onward!” Meg cried, pushing Balth forward. He led them upstairs and down a hall to the closet, just across from the bathroom. Sure enough, there was a rustling sound coming from inside. The group exchanged one quick glance, then Meg reached for the doorknob and yanked it open.

“What the –”

“Ow!”

Ben and Bea tumbled out of the closet, Bea’s shirt half off and Ben’s belt undone. Ben came crashing down on top of Bea, a pile of towels and sheets landing on top of them. Meg burst into loud giggles, doubling over. Hero and John’s faces were red with embarrassment on their behalf; and Ursula and Balth were doing their best to look away. Pedro and Claudio hooted with laughter.

“Oh, man,” Meg clapped, “I didn’t think we get such a show!”

“I’ll give you everything in my bank account  _not_ to put this on the internet,” Ben bartered half-heartedly, rolling off of Bea.

“I hope there’s a million dollars in your bank account, because that’s my price,” Meg said, but let Hero take the camera from her. Beatrice groaned from beneath the pile of blankets.

“We’re never living this down, are we?”


	13. Wedding Day!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For anon, who requested Ben and Bea on their wedding day.

Getting married had never really been a priority for either of them. They’d talked about it a couple of times, but always settled on the same thing – they didn’t need a piece of paper to prove anything, and they weren’t keen on having a big expensive party, anyway.

It wasn’t until Beatrice got a call at work from the hospital saying Ben was heading into emergency surgery to get his appendix removed that they encountered any kind of problem with their arrangement. When she arrived at the hospital, she was told only family was allowed in – and “long-term live-in girlfriend” didn’t constitute as family, as far as the hospital was concerned.

That’s how they wound up at the town hall two weeks later, with only Hero in attendance. (Well, Hero and Floyd, but Beatrice was quick to point out that a pink plastic flamingo couldn’t _actually_ be counted as a Best Man.) Beatrice wore jeans and chucks, and Ben wore the laser cat shirt he’d had since high school. Afterwards, the three of them went out to lunch to celebrate, then Ben and Bea returned to their apartment (with a batch of cupcakes Hero made for the occasion), drank rum and cokes, and watched movies for the rest of the night.

“Best wedding ever,” Benedick said, raising his glass.

“Here, here,” Beatrice said, and they clinked their glasses together.


	14. A New Start!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For timelured, who requested someone new discovering the vlogs. I apologize, because I think it was meant to be a goofy prompt, but I was suddenly overcome with Claudio feelings I never even knew I had, and this was the result.

Claudio had noticed the girl in the back of his literature class watching him – she’d been doing it since the first week of classes – but he ignored it, for the most part. He usually smiled at her if he saw her around campus, and she usually waved, so whatever the staring was about, at least it was amiable.

A few weeks later, he was grabbing lunch at the dining hall between classes, and saw her a few tables away. Her eyes kept flicking over at him, and she was whispering something to her friend. The friend wound up giving the girl a shove, right in Claudio’s direction.

“Um, hi,” she said, hovering awkwardly over the table, “can I sit?”

“Sure,” he said, moving his bag. She sat across from him, nervously playing with her hair.

“I’m Helena. You’re Claudio, right?”

“Yeah. We have lit together.”

“Can I ask a kind of weird question?”

“Uh – sure,” He shrugged. Helena reached for her phone, tapping the screen, then passed it over to him. “This is totally you, right?” It was one of Ben’s videos – specifically, the one titled ‘CLAUDIO’. His stomach dropped – he knew he should’ve asked Ben and Bea to take their videos down, he should’ve demanded it. Now this girl was probably going to lecture him, or yell at him, or worse, tell everyone she knew that he was some terrible creep who publically humiliated his girlfriend for something she didn’t even _do_. He thought University could be a new start for him, but no, apparently those stupid videos were going to haunt him for the rest of his life. His mistakes were forever immortalized on the internet, for all to see.

“It is, right?” Helena asked, taking the phone back.

“Yeah,” he said, voice hoarse, “that’s me.”

“I’ve watched all the vlogs,” She said, “and I just wanted to say –”

“Look, if you’re going to tell me I was an asshole, I know that,” He cut her off, “but that was two years ago, and I’m not the same person I was, and it’s not very fair to judge me on the person I _used_ to be, so –”

“No, no, that’s not why I came over!” She jumped in, shaking her head, “I’m sorry, no, that’s not what I was going to say at all.”

“Oh,” Claudio said, surprised, “sorry.”

“I mean, I kind of thought that at first, don’t get me wrong. But I knew those videos were kind of old, and you’re always nice in class and so different from the person in those vlogs, and I mean – come on. You made a crappy mistake in high school. We’ve all been there.” She bit her lip, looking down at the table. “Actually, that’s kind of what I wanted to say. I just – I’ve been in love before, or at least – I’ve thought I was in love before – and it made me do some totally bonkers things, so. I understand what it’s like, to do something totally irrational because you’re a dumb teenager and you think you’re in love with this person who you think is going to be forever, and then it suddenly feels like it’s totally taken from you, and –”

“Did you publicly slut shame someone over a false accusation at their birthday party?” He asked. Helena’s cheeks turned pink.

“No, but… there may have been some mild stalking,” She admitted. “It just – it got out of hand and blown out of proportion. Like the thing with you and Hero. Do you guys still talk?”

“Not really,” Claudio let out a low breath, “I mean, if we run into each other when we’re home on holiday, she’s always very polite, but we don’t really talk anymore. Probably for the best.”

“Yeah – me and my guy don’t talk, either,” Helena laughed uneasily. “There was a lot of – it was like, a very one-sided thing for a while, then it became this whole weird love triangle – or I guess square is more like it? It was all very… intense.”

“Intense is a good word for it.”

“I chose this school because of how far away it was,” She admitted, “I just needed to get away from my hometown, you know? Too many people know too much about me. I wanted a fresh start.”

“Same,” Claudio said, “I did the exact same thing.”

“Listen, I’ve totally sworn off dating for a while, but… would you ever want to hang out some time?” Helena asked. “I totally understand if you don’t, but it’s kind of nice, isn’t it? Having someone who just gets it?”

“Yeah,” The corners of his lips turned upwards, smiling for the first time since they’d started talking, “yeah, I’d like that.”


	15. Ben and Bea Have a Baby!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For anon, who requested Ben and Bea introducing their first child to their friends.

She finally gave birth two weeks after her due date. Ben called everyone from the car, and they came to the hospital immediately, which proved to be entirely unnecessary, as Bea was in labor for nearly twelve hours.

Finally, when it was nearing three in the morning and most of them were asleep in the waiting room, Ben burst in.

“She’s here! She’s born! She’s perfect!” He shouted, eyes wide and smile wider. “Just give us about twenty minutes, then you can come in and meet her!”

When they were finally allowed in the room, Bea was the happiest they’d ever seen her. She was an exhausted, sweaty mess, but she was smiling, cradling a tiny bundle in her arms. Benedick was hovered over her, looking at mother and daughter like they were the moon and stars.

“Oh, Beatrice,” Hero gushed, “she’s precious.”

“Do you want to hold her?” She offered. Hero nodded, and gingerly took the baby into her arms.

“She’s so tiny,” Pedro marveled.

“What’s her name?” Meg asked, in between making kissy faces at the baby.

“Katerina,” Benedick announced, “we’re calling her Kat, for short.”

“Since I’m not going to be a spinster who lives alone with one hundred cats,” Beatrice explained, “I can at least have one Kat.” Ursula gave her a wry smile.

“Did you choose that name _just_ so you could make that pun?”

“Does that really surprise you?” Balthazar countered.

“Touché.”

“I think it’s a lovely name,” Hero defended, smiling down at her niece, “a perfect name for a perfect baby.”

“I think she looks like me,” Ben boasted, puffing his chest out proudly.

“Let’s hope she can overcome that,” Beatrice smirked.

“I’m going to overlook that snarky comment because you’ve just spent half a day in enormous amounts of pain.”

“Was it awful?” Hero asked, passing Kat back to Bea.

“Yes,” Bea said, smiling fondly at the baby, “but it was worth it.”


	16. Babysitting (Mis)adventures!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For anon, who requested Ben and Bea babysitting. I'm always looking for more prompts, so if you want to, you can prompt me on my tumblr! xxbillieshears.tumblr.com/ask :)

When Bea and Ben were trying to decide whether or not they were ready for children, they decided to do a trial run with the only children they had any connection to – Leo’s. He had two of them – a one year old, Maria, and a four year old, Andrew.

“Are you sure you want to take them on?” Leo asked, when he came to drop them off, “I won’t blame you if you changed your mind – they’re a handful.”

“It’ll be a snap,” Ben insisted, “we always have fun with them when we see you around the holidays.”

“Well, sure, but one afternoon is a lot different than a whole weekend.” Leo started unloading the enormous bag he’d brought, which seemed to rival Mary Poppins. He kept pulling out more and more items – toys, bottles, blankets, diapers, baby monitors, anything you could think of.

“I resent that, Leo,” Beatrice said, scooping Andrew into her arms and blowing a raspberry on his belly, “you never give _Hero_ this speech when she offers to babysit.”

“Hero’s a kindergarten teacher, she works with children for a living,” Leo frowned, “And I’ve never overheard _Hero_ saying ‘children are put on earth to do the devils work’.”

“Oh my God, I said that one time and I was _fifteen_ ,” Beatrice defended. “Go! Get out of here, have a nice weekend with your wife! We’ll be _fine_.”

-

Their whole first day with the kids had gone off without a hitch – they took them to the park, they made them a healthy dinner, they had a successful bath time, and everyone went to bed without much fuss.

“Okay, why do people pretend that kids are hard?” Ben asked, when they went to bed that night, “I mean, is it some big conspiracy? You tell people it’s hard so we don’t overpopulate the earth even more than it already is?”

“I don’t know, maybe we’re just exceptionally good at it,” Beatrice shrugged. “We should write a book. We’re clearly going to be the greatest parents on earth.”

“So it’s settled, then. We’re going to start our family.”

“Hell yeah. Bring it on, universe.”

-

Somewhere around five in the morning, Maria started crying. Ear-splitting, earth-shattering crying. And it didn’t take long for Andrew to join in the tears. They played rock, paper, scissors to decide who took care of who – Beatrice got Maria, Ben got Andrew.

“You just need a diaper change, don’t you, little buddy?” Beatrice cooed, scooping Maria up and setting her on top of the dresser that they’d turned into a make-shift changing station for the time being.

“Um, Beatrice,” Ben called from the other room, “I don’t mean to alarm you, and I don’t want to freak Andrew out, so remain calm, okay?”

Beatrice practically flew the distance to the living room, where Ben had taken Andrew.

“What’s the matter?” She demanded.

“Okay, remember, I said _remain calm_. See how calm Andrew is? I need you to achieve that same level of zen.”

“Benedick, I swear, if you don’t tell me what happened –”

“He swallowed a penny.”

“ _HE SWALLOWED A –_ ”

“Calm, calm, calm!”

She took a deep breath.

“ _He swallowed a_ _penny?_ ” She hissed through gritted teeth, “How could you let this happen?”

“I was trying to cheer him up, so I was doing that trick where you pull a coin from behind their ear, and he asked to hold it and the next thing I knew, he’d just –”

He was interrupted by a loud thud followed by an eruption of tears from the other room. Bea’s eyes went wide with horror, and she turned on a heel and ran.

“Maria!” She practically screeched. The baby had rolled off of the dresser and fallen to the floor. She was lying on her stomach, face pinched up and pink, screaming her head off. Beatrice snatched her up and immediately starting looking her over, scanning for bruises or worse. “Oh, baby, I am so sorry, I’m _so so so_ sorry, are you okay?”

“I’m calling for reinforcements!” Ben shouted from the other room, “I feel like we’re in a warzone, we need backup!”

-

Hero arrived twenty minutes later, still in her pajamas. Maria was still crying, and she had to practically shout to be heard.

“I could barely understand you on the phone, Ben – what’s happened?”

“Andrew swallowed a penny and Maria fell off of a table,” Beatrice said, clearly distressed, “because Ben and I are the worst caretakers on earth, apparently, and we’re probably going to kill them by the end of the weekend.”

“Leo was right, we never should’ve been left alone with them,” Ben added morosely.

“Was he choking or anything?” She asked, immediately bending down to Andrew’s level, giving him a once-over.

“No, he just swallowed the darn thing, no choking or anything.”

“Then he’s fine – it’s just a penny. It’ll pass. The only real danger was choking, so if that didn’t happen, he’s pretty much in the clear.”

“Really?” Ben’s face lit up, “so it’s not my fault? I’m not going to kill him?”

“You would be shocked if I told you how many kids swallow pennies or beads or tiny things like that,” Hero assured him, “trust me, you’re not the first person who’s had it happen on their watch. Now let me see Maria. How bad was the fall?”

“Less than four feet,” Beatrice said, “but she’s so tiny and fragile! She’s like a baby bird!”

“She didn’t land on her head, did she?” Hero asked, running her fingers over Maria’s head and down her back.

“No, no, she landed on her stomach. But something has to be wrong – she hasn’t stopped crying!”

“You were probably just spooked, weren’t you, cupcake?” Hero kissed the crying baby’s head, “She seems fine, Bea. When was the last time you fed her? She’s probably just hungry.”

“I was so nervous about the fall I sort of… forgot,” Bea admitted sheepishly. Hero clucked her tongue and grabbed a bottle from the fridge. Maria’s sobs quieted almost immediately.

“I’ve got to go back home and start getting ready for work, but don’t beat yourselves too much over this, guys,” Hero said sympathetically, “it’s your first time really babysitting. Everyone makes mistakes.”

“Can we ask you one more favor?” Ben asked.

“Of course,” She said, passing the now peaceful Maria back to Bea, “what is it?”

“Can you please not tell Leo about this?”

-

“So,” said Ben, as they lay in bed that night, “about that whole ‘starting our family’ thing…”

“Let’s put a pin in that and revisit it in two more years,” Beatrice suggested. Ben let out a sigh of relief.

“My thoughts exactly.”


	17. Oops!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For anon, who requested Bea telling Ben she's pregnant.

When he came home from work that day, he found Beatrice already there, sitting at the kitchen table, hands folded in her lap.

“This is a nice surprise,” He said, bending to kiss her, “I thought you said you had to stay late today.”

“I wasn’t feel very well this morning,” she explained, “so I wound up taking a half day.”

“Are you getting sick? There’s a nasty flu going around my office, maybe you’re catching that. I can make you some soup,” He offered, immediately heading for the stove, “Or tea! Tea always helps.”

“It’s definitely not the flu,” She said, “can you sit down for a minute?”

“Full disclosure, you’re making me extremely nervous,” Ben said, taking the seat across from her. “What’s up?”

“So you remember how after we babysat Leo’s kids a couple months ago, we agreed we wanted to wait a couple of years before starting out own family?”

“Yes…”

“Oops,” she said, and she lifted her hands from her lap and dropped three pregnancy tests in front of Ben, all positive.

He stared down at them, unmoving, face blank. Beatrice squirmed in her seat. Very slowly, Ben reached out and picked one of the tests up, taking a closer look.

“What do you think?” She asked. He lifted his gaze to meet hers. His eyes were wide, his jaw slack.

“Say something,” she implored, “say _anything_. I know we wanted to wait, and this is a huge shock, but I have spent the past three hours freaking out alone waiting for you to come home so we could at least freak out together, so I need you to say _something_.”

Instead, he jumped to his feet and grabbed Beatrice, pulling her up so she was standing, too. He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed, burying his face in her neck.

“We’re gonna be _parents_ ,” He whispered. He pulled away so he could look right at her, smile so wide it threatened to split his face open. “This is amazing.”

“So you’re happy?” She asked, a wave of relief washing over her. “You’re not scared?”

“Scared? I’m _terrified_ ,” He exclaimed, grabbing both of Bea’s hands, “but I’m also ecstatic! I’m scared shitless, and I’ve never been happier.”

“Good,” Beatrice gave a watery laugh, tears springing up in her eyes, “then we’re in the exact same boat.” He grinned, stamping her mouth with a kiss.

“Aren’t we always?” 


	18. Announcements!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For anon, who requested Ben and Bea telling the rest of the gang that they're expecting.

They planned on waiting until the end of the first trimester to tell anyone. (Except for Hero, of course – the cat was already out of the bag, with that one, since Beatrice had called her while waiting in line to buy the pregnancy tests. She never could keep a secret from Hero.) However, they barely made it a month before their cover was totally blown.

They were at Meg’s house for a New Years Party, and Beatrice had successfully avoided alcohol all night without raising suspicion.

“Oh yeah? Well, _Bea_ will do a shot with me,” Meg was saying to Pedro, who’d just made a comment about them being too old for such things. She turned around, brandishing a bottle of tequila at her. “Won’t you, Beatrice?”

“Um, I’d rather not.” 

Meg’s smile immediately dropped.

“Why not?” She demanded. “You’re not driving home. And it’s not like you’re pregnant.” She scoffed when she said it, but when she saw Bea’s jaw drop and Ben’s eyes widen, she froze.

“Oh my God,  _are you pregnant?_ ” She squealed. “Bitch, you’ve been holding out on us!”

“Is that true?” Balthazar asked, looking from Ben to Bea, “Are you?”

“No use denying it now,” Ben said, shrugging at Bea.

“We weren’t supposed to tell anyone for another two months,” She explained, “Hero’s the only other person who knew.”

“That’s so exciting,” Ursula smiled, “Congratulations, you guys.”

“I can’t believe the two of you are going to be  _parents_ ,” Pedro joked, grabbing Bea in a hug, “this kid doesn’t stand a chance.”

“Have you thought about baby names? Because for a girl, I highly recommend Margaret,” Meg grinned, “and for a boy, also Margaret.”

“And what if they don’t subscribe to gender roles?” Beatrice asked.

“In that case, also Margaret.”

“We’re going to name the baby Floyd, after the most majestic creature I have ever known,” Ben said, placing a hand on Bea’s belly.

“Under no circumstances is that true,” Bea said dryly, “Do not listen to him.”

“Oooh, what about Margaret Floyd?” Meg suggested. “I’d even settle for Floyd Margaret.”

“Floyd Margaret does have a nice ring to it,” Ben said thoughtfully. “But it would be a bit of a mouthful. Floyd Margaret Duke-Hobbes. Or Margaret Floyd Hobbes-Duke? Or –”

“Absolutely not,” Beatrice shook her head. “We are not naming our baby after any of you, and we are especially not naming our baby after a  _toy_.”

“How  _dare_  you!” Ben cried, aghast, “Floyd is not a  _toy_.”

“I’m sorry, let me rephrase that. We are not naming our baby after a  _lawn decoration_.”

“What if we combine all of our names?” Balthazar joked. “Hergretsula Pedrazar Hobbes-Duke.”

“I love it,” Ben said, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye.

“I hate you all,” Beatrice declared, as she headed for the kitchen, “and I am not taking suggestions for baby names from any of you.”

“It’s okay,” Ben stage-whispered to them, “you can submit all potential baby names to me, and I’ll pretend I came up with them and bring it up to Bea.”

“I can still hear you, dickface,” She called over her shoulder, “and you’ve just lost baby naming privileges!”


	19. First Christmas!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For anon, who requested Ben and Bea's first Christmas as a couple.

“You’re late,” Beatrice accused, perched on top of the monkey bars. “You were supposed to get here at midnight.”

It was nearly one in the morning – their Christmas plans with their families were so jam packed, they knew they weren’t going to be able to see each other, so they’re agreed to sneak out and meet up at the playground halfway between their houses to exchange gifts.

“Patience is a virtue, darling,” He held his hand out for her, and she took it, jumping down. “My mum was up late wrapping last minute gifts, I had to wait for her to go to bed. She still pretends they’re from Santa.”

“A likely story. You were probably scrambling to finish your gift.”

“My gift has been ready for _weeks,_ I’ll have you know.” He reached into his backpack and pulled out a perfectly wrapped package. “I had to have my mum wrap it. I tried to do it myself, but I wound up with my hand taped to my hair. And before you ask, no, there isn’t a picture of that.”

“Normally I’d make fun of you for that, but since it is Christmas, I’ll let it slide,” Beatrice said, as she pulled a small box from her pocket, “…and also because I had to have Hero wrap my gift to you. Who should go first?”

“Open mine first,” Ben said eagerly, “I’ve been waiting longer to give it to you.”

She ripped it open carelessly, and Ben stuffed the wrinkled paper back into his bag. Beatrice gasped – audibly gasped – when she saw what it was, running her fingers across the ornately decorated hard cover, over the grooves of Mary Shelley’s name.

“I know you already have a ton of copies of Frankenstein, but it’s a special anniversary edition,” He explained. “Do you like it?”

“I _love_ it,” She said, and she cradled it to her chest and smiled up at Ben, “And I will never open it.”

“It’s a book,” He laughed, “it’s meant to be opened. How else are you going to read it?”

“It’s too beautiful for reading. It’s going on my shelf as a piece of art,” She declared. “You definitely should’ve opened my gift to you first. This is so much better – mine’s going to seem like garbage in comparison.”

“I highly doubt it’s going to seem like _garbage_ ,” He said, as he ripped off the paper.

“No, really,” Beatrice shook her head as Ben removed the lid from the box, “I’m genuinely embarrassed about how much better your gift for me is than my gift for you.”

He took them out of the box and examined them.

“They’re cufflinks,” She explained, “and they’re stupid.”

“They’re _flamingo_ cufflinks,” He corrected, as a grin broke out across his face, “and they’re hilarious. I love them.”

“I didn’t know what to get you, and the other day you were complaining that your family always makes you dress up for Christmas, so I thought this might at least make the dressing up a little more bearable, or at least –”

“Beatrice.”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up,” He said, and he kissed her.

“You’ve got to stop doing that,” She laughed, when he pulled away.

“It’s the most effective way to get you to stop nervously babbling.” He gave her another quick kiss. “Merry Christmas, Beatrice.”

She leaned into him, allowing herself to be enveloped by his long arms, and sighed contentedly into his chest.

“Merry Christmas, Ben.”


	20. Revelations!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For anon, who requested Balthazar accidentally coming out to Ursula.

Ursula was just the kind of person that immediately  _clicked_  with Balthazar. He got along with most people – he didn’t have an enemy in the world, really, it wasn’t very hard for him to make friends – but Ursula was one of those people that you meet and immediately just know that you’re going to be great friends. He appreciated that she, like him, was more of a quiet observer of the world. He liked that she seemed to know everyone’s secrets even before they did, but she would never dream of spilling them, or even so much as hinting that she knew anything was amiss.

Knowing that about her, honestly, her reaction shouldn’t have surprised him. It wasn’t that he was keeping it a secret, exactly – it was just that he also wasn’t telling people. When he let it slip to Ursula, it was actually the first time he’d acknowledged it out loud at all. They were fourteen years old and hanging out at her house, watching Pirates of the Caribbean. 

“What do you think of Johnny Depp?” She’d asked.

“Orlando Bloom’s more of my type,” He’d replied, without even realizing what he was saying. Ursula’s brow lifted.

“I meant in terms of acting,” She said, smirking, “but that’s good to know, too.”


	21. Truth or Dare!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For anon, who requested what happens right after PROJECT VI: MONTAGE ends.

He kisses her, and it’s like the others aren’t even there anymore.

Well – that’s what it’s like for exactly two seconds, anyway, before they start hooting and hollering, and Pedro tosses the ball at them and it knocks right into Ben’s arm, immediately jolting them both out of the kiss. Bea buries her face in Ben’s shoulder to hide the blush that’s spreading across her cheeks, and Ben’s smiling like a fool, too happy to be embarrassed.

“I feel like that settles the question nicely,” He says.

“I’m sorry I even asked,” Pedro replies, wincing.

“I’m just happy you two finally got over yourselves and got together,” Meg says, “I was beginning to think it would never happen and you’d spend your whole lives secretly in love.”

“I resent that!” Beatrice lifts her head from Ben’s shoulder.

“Yeah, we would’ve figured it out eventually,” Ben adds.

“I was talking about the secretly in love part,” Bea says, frowning.

“We’re a little past denial now, don’t you think, Beatrice?” Hero teases, “Or should we play your song again?”

“I’ve got my ukulele in Ursula’s car,” Balthazar grins, “how about a live show?”

“Absolutely not,” Bea declares, “and if you all keep bugging me about it, I’m going to destroy the evidence and delete the video. Weren’t we in the middle of a truth or dare game? It’s your turn, Ben.”

“Right,” Ben rubs his hands together and looks around the circle, choosing his victim. “Pedro! Truth or dare!”

“Fine - truth,” Pedro rolls his eyes.

“If you had to pick one person in this circle to date, who would it be?” He asks. Pedro shifts uncomfortably.

“I’m changing my answer. I pick dare.”

“Normally that violates the rules of truth or dare, but I’m feeling rather benevolent today, so—”

“Ha!” Bea cackles, “ _Ben_ -evolent! Good one.” They high five.

“I dare you to kiss the person in the circle that you think is the cutest.”

“That’s not a very good dare,” Meg says, “we already know the answer is me.”

“You know what? Claud’s right, we’re too old for truth or dare,” Pedro announces, rising to his feet.

“That’s not fair,” Beatrice complains, “We had to answer _your_ question.”

“How about this,” He offers, “I’ll answer the question if you sing us your song.”

Beatrice recoils, pulling a face.

“Game over,” she says.


	22. Fake Dating (Beadick Style)!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For fictionalbirds, who requested Ben/Bea fake dating. Even though I've already written a fic about that, I could not resist the opportunity to write another one, because there is no trope better than the fake dating trope.

It was sheer, terrible coincidence that led to the Dukes and the Hobbes vacationing in the exact same place for the exact same week of the summer. The cottages were right next door to each other, and since there weren’t too many people their own age around and Benedick didn’t have any siblings of his own to bother, he wound up hanging around Bea and Hero the whole time.

On the last night of vacation, there was a huge party complete with a bonfire at the beach. Bea was just reveling in the fact that she hadn’t seen Ben all night when he came running up behind them, frantic and short of breath.

“I need one of you to pretend to be my girlfriend,” He said, looking around wildly. Beatrice opened her mouth to say something, but Hero cut her off before she could get the words out.

“Is that Leo calling me? Sorry, Ben, I have to go!” And she took off in the other direction.

“Well, that certainly made the decision easier,” Ben shrugged, reaching for her hand. She immediately yanked it away.

“What the hell is going on?” She demanded, “Is this your idea of a joke? Because I’m not laughing.”

“It’s not a joke!” He insisted. “I need you to do this for me. Come on, Bea, I’ll do anything you want. Just do this one teensy, tiny thing for me and pretend to be my girlfriend for a _minute_. I’m desperate.”

“But _why_ is this happening?”

“She’s coming!” Ben cried, and grabbed Bea’s hand, “I’ll explain it in a minute, just play along for now.”

“There you are!” A girl Bea had seen around the beach but hadn’t yet met approached them, holding a drink in each hand. “I went up to get this for you, then I turned around and you were just gone.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that – just got swept up in the crowd, I guess,” Ben laughed uneasily, taking the offered drink. “Bianca, this is my girlfriend. Beatrice. My girlfriend, Beatrice, who is my girlfriend.”

“Hi,” Bea held out her hand, and Bianca shook it. “I’m Beatrice. I’m not sure if Ben’s mentioned this to you, but I am his girlfriend.”

“My girlfriend Beatrice,” he repeated.

“Oooookay,” Bianca’s brow wrinkled in confusion, “yeah, you’re being super weird right now, so I’m gonna go talk to literally anyone else. It was nice to meet you, I guess?”

“Nice chatting with you!” Ben called after her. The moment she was out of ear shot, he let out a sigh of relief, turning to Bea. “Thanks, I owe you one.”

“Uh, yeah, what was that about?” Bea frowned.

“She fell victim to my irresistible charm,” Ben sighed, shaking his head as though this were an unavoidable situation. “She was being extremely flirtatious  - and who can blame her? I mean, just look at me. All this, _plus_ brains and a cutting wit, too?”

“And so humble,” Beatrice added dryly. “So what was the problem, Dickface? Heaven forbid a girl who you will literally never see again expresses interest in you.”

“That’s the thing! I kept talking about how I’m leaving tomorrow, and she kept suggesting things like becoming pen pals or exchanging skype info or something! I mean, _you_ know how I feel about relationships –” at this, Bea scoffed, “—just think of all the extra effort that would have to go into something like _pen pals_. But every time I tried to say no, she wouldn’t have it. I had no choice but to tell her I’m already spoken for, and such a correspondence would be inappropriate. You’re a terribly jealous girlfriend, you’d never allow it. At least, that’s what I told her.”

“Good to know,” Beatrice rolled her eyes. “So we’re done here, right? We can go back to not dating?”

“Yeah, I think we’re all set,” Ben said. “Thanks, Bea.”

They went their separate ways and spent the next few hours chatting with other people at the party. Beatrice had almost already forgotten about the entire thing until she went to get a drink, and saw Bianca whispering with someone, glancing over in Ben’s direction.

“I mean, he says she’s his girlfriend, but they literally haven’t gone near each other all night,” Bianca was saying, “I don’t know if I buy it, you know?”

“You should call him out,” Her friend encouraged, “it’s totally not cool to lie to you like that.”

“Yeah,” Bianca said, “yeah, you’re right! I’m gonna give him a piece of my mind!”

“Shit,” Beatrice mumbled, as Bianca headed straight for Ben, “shit, shit, shit.”

Before she could talk herself out of it, she started walking towards them, her pace quickening with every step. She practically had to jog to get to him before Bianca did.

“Oh, hey, Bea –”

“You owe me _so hard_ for this,” She snapped, and she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him with every bit of enthusiasm she could possibly muster. He went completely still, but only for the first few seconds – then he wound his arms around her and responded in kind. When they finally broke apart for air, he noticed Bianca standing just behind Bea, eyes wide with surprise.

“Uh, sorry,” She stammered, “I thought – actually, you know what? Nevermind. Obviously I was wrong. Have a good night, guys.”

“Sorry to spring that on you,” Bea said, taking a step back. “I overheard her talking to her friend, and she was coming over here to give you an earful for lying to her.”

“And instead of letting her publicly humiliate me, you came to my _defense?_ ” Ben asked, lifting his brow in surprise. “I don’t even know how to respond to that. I’m at a loss for words, if you can believe it.”

“Well I hope you enjoyed it,” she said, “because I can guaran-fucking-tee you that will be the _only_ time your lips ever come _near_ mine.”


	23. Let's Name a Baby!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For haili-73, who requested Ben and Bea finally settling on the name Kat for their baby.

“How do you feel about the name Sebastian?” Ben suggested. Beatrice grimaced. “Okay – how about Ariel?”

“Are you just picking names from The Little Mermaid?” She frowned. “We’re not naming our kid after a Disney character. And if we _were_ , it’d be Merida, because she’s clearly the best role model.”

“We could name them Anthony.”

“We know too many Tony’s,” she replied, shaking her head. “What about Cordelia?”

“That name makes her sound like a two hundred year old vampire,” Ben said, “how about Oliver?”

“You’re just trying to squeeze in the word ‘Olive’,” She accused. “Besides, I’ll only ever think of a poor little underfed orphan if we name them Oliver.”

“Obviously our child will not be an underfed orphan, but I see your point,” He granted. “What about Peaseblossom?”

“Okay, now you’re just making things up.”

“If that wasn’t true, I’d be offended.” He sighed, leafing through the pages of the baby name book. “At this rate, our child is going to be nameless forever. We’re running out of time.”

“I know,” Beatrice looked down at her enormous belly – she was due any day now. “At this point, even Floyd Margaret isn’t sounding so bad. That’s how you know I’ve truly given up.”

Ben was about ready to toss the book aside when something caught his eye.

“Huh,” he said, “I think I may have found a good one. For a daughter, anyway.”

“Really?” Beatrice asked, peering over his shoulder.

“What do you think about Katerina?”

“Katerina,” Bea repeated, mulling it over, “Hm. Katerina.”

“It’s a little unusual, I’ll admit, but so are _our_ names. I mean, when was the last time you met another Beatrice? And I guarantee you there aren’t any other Benedicks walking around,” He went on. “And we could always give her a more normal-sounding nickname, like we have.”

“We could call her Kat,” Bea said, the corners of her lips turning upwards.

“Yes! Kat! I love it!” He beamed. “So it’s settled then, right? If we have a daughter, we’re naming her Katerina?” She nodded, running her hand over her belly.

“Katerina it is.”


	24. Double Date!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For anon, who requested Ben, Bea, Balth, and Pedro on a double date.

Laser tag had been Ben’s idea in the first place, so his ego was doubly bruised when Bea immediately called Pedro as her partner.

“I can’t believe you’re breaking up Team Blessed,” he accused. “They don’t even have a snappy team name! We’re _already_ the superior team based on that alone!”

“Balth and I could be called Team Incredibly Handsome,” Pedro suggested, winking at Balthazar.

“Look, Ben,” Bea laid a hand on his shoulder, “for boyfriend stuff, I’ll always pick you. In the event of an apocalypse, even, I’d pick you. But for laser tag? I totally pick Pedro. He’s like a laser tag winning machine.”

“Yeah, Bea’s pretty much the best laser tag player I’ve ever met, too,” Pedro admitted. “I’d much rather be on her team than against her.”

“I’m a little insulted you’re not excited to be on my team, Ben,” Balthazar teased. “I thought we had a special bond after we spent the whole day on your song.”

“You know what, Balthy? You’re right,” Ben clapped him on the back. “We make a better team than they do any day. Let’s do this thing.”

“Try not to cry too hard when we utterly destroy you,” Beatrice taunted. She turned to Pedro. “You ready?” Pedro saluted.

“Let’s do this.”

-

“This is the greatest day of my whole life,” Ben declared, when they were returning their equipment.

“We beat you _three times_ ,” Beatrice reminded him, “just because you won _once_ doesn’t mean you’re the winners _overall._ ”

“We didn’t just _win_ , Beatrice,” Ben corrected. “We crushed you like bugs. We wiped the floor with you.”

“Again,” Pedro said, “ _one time_. As opposed to our _three_ victories.”

“Yes, but you won by the skin of your teeth every time,” Ben explained. “Balthazar, how many times did Pedro and Bea shoot us in that final round?”

“They got you three times,” Balthazar grinned, “and me twice.”

“And how many times would you say we shot them, in that final round?” Ben asked, growing more smug by the minute.

“Too many to count. I lost track.”

“Okay, so yeah, you won a _battle_ ,” Pedro conceded, “But Bea and I won the _war._ ”

“Yeah, but everyone loves a good underdog story,” Balthazar said. “It’s uplifting.”

“Are we done talking about this?” Beatrice huffed.

“Don’t pout, love,” Ben said, “Tell you what - you can be on my team next time, and I promise, I won’t even hold it against you that you foolishly thought Pedro was a better choice than me.”

“That’s it!” Beatrice snapped, “Rematch. Right now. Me and Pedro against you and Balth.”

“You’re on!” Ben said, following her back into the other room.

“How long til they notice we didn’t follow them?” Balthazar wondered aloud, watching them go. Pedro smirked and shook his head, chuckling under his breath.

“Half an hour, easy,” He guessed.

“Wanna just bail, pick up a pizza, and head back to my house?” Balth suggested. Pedro grinned.

“Good plan. Let’s turn off our phones, too. They’re gonna be pissed when they finally realize we’re gone.”


	25. Flavia the Tiny Flamingo!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For jesuisdansserdaigle, who challenged me to incorporate Flavia the tiny flamingo (as seen in the bloopers) into a fic.

“I can’t believe you’re spending the first two weeks after graduation in England,” Beatrice was perched on the end of Ben’s bed, watching while he packed. “You’re going to miss all the graduation parties.”

“This may shock you, but I don’t actually like parties all that much. I usually wind up in the bath. Remember?” Ben picked up one of his shirts, gave it an experimental sniff, then tossed it into his hamper with a grimace.

“I’m going to say something super cheesy and unlike me,” Beatrice warned, “and I need you to swear you will never reveal to anyone that I was this pathetic. Because I will kill you, if you do, and I will feel zero guilt about it.”

“I swear on all the tea in England, I will not tell a soul whatever ridiculously sappy thing you are about to tell me,” Ben vowed, placing his hand over his heart.

“This is the longest amount of time we’ll have spent apart since we started dating,” she said, “I’m really going to miss you. Although it will be nice to go more than three days without you suggesting we watch one of the Lord of the Rings movies.”

“First of all, those movies are incredible, how dare you imply that you could ever possibly get sick of them? And second of all, I am aware of that fact, and I am also aware that it’s very likely you will wither away and die without me, so I got you a little present.” He disappeared into his closet, rooting around for something. “Aha! Found it. Close your eyes and hold out your hands.”

“Okay, but if this is something gross, I’m setting your passport on fire,” she warned, squeezing her eyes shut. “Actually, that would be an excellent way to force you to stay in the country.” She felt something soft drop into her outstretched hands.

“Okay, open them.”

She peered down at what he’d given her – a tiny, stuffed pink flamingo.

“What’s this? Floyd 2.0?”

“Sort of. Since I’ll have Floyd to comfort me while we’re apart, I thought you could use your own flamingo friend. Her name is Flavia –”

“ _Flavia_?” Beatrice repeated. “I can’t even say that name in a normal voice. _Flavia_. Can we pick something else?”

“Flavia’s name is majestic and non-negotiable,” Ben insisted, “under no circumstances are you permitted to change her name.”

“Fine. _Flavia_ it is,” Beatrice relented. She tried to set the tiny flamingo on her shoulder, but it kept falling off. “I don’t think she likes me very much.”

“She’s probably a little insulted that you wanted to change her name.” Ben took the flamingo from her and helped situate it on her shoulder, leaning it against her neck so it stayed in place. “See? She likes me.”

“Great – my Ben replacement doesn’t even like me,” Beatrice sighed.

“Maybe your Ben replacement is just _pretending_ not to like you,” He suggested, “much like I was, before.”

“Maybe Flavia and I should work on our communication skills, then.”

“By the way,” Ben sat beside her and took her hand, “admitting you’ll miss me is not pathetic. Or if it is, I’m just as pathetic, because I’m really going to miss you, too.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Beatrice said, “now that I have _Flavia_ , I won’t miss you one bit.”


	26. Fake Dating Follow-Up (Beadick Style)!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for majesticflamangoes, who requested a followup to the fake dating drabble in which ben and bea get together.

She kisses him, and that summer is the first thing he thinks of – of the way she kissed him that night, and even though it had caught him completely off guard, it was the best kiss of his whole life. Then she’d immediately followed it up by telling him it was the only time it was ever going to happen. He’d thought about that kiss so many times since then – far more times than he was willing to admit – and now here she was, and she was kissing him again, and it was _so much better than he remembered_.

He laughs, and she pulls away immediately, eyes flashing with anger.

“What’s funny about this?” She demands.

“Nothing!” He scrambles, “Trust me, Beatrice, there is _nothing_ funny about kissing you. It’s a lot of things – all positive – but none of them are funny.”

“Okay,” she says, relaxing a bit but still regarding him with narrowed eyes, “then why were you laughing?”

“Do you remember last summer, that bonfire at the beach? When you pretended to be my girlfriend?”

“Oh my gosh, yes – that Bianca girl! She totally knew we were lying,” Beatrice smiles at the memory, “and I had to save your ass, take one for the team, and make out with you in front of that whole party.”

“And afterwards you said ‘I hope you enjoyed it, because I can guaran-fucking-tee you that will be the only time your lips ever come near mine’,” He repeats, in his best attempt at a Beatrice impersonation.

“Your accent is still garbage,” She says, “and there’s no way I said that!”

“Are you joking? Of course you said that!” Ben laughs, “That kiss has been seared into my brain for all time. Trust me, I remember.”

“Seared into your brain forever, huh?” She smirks.

“Come on, you _know_ it was a good kiss.”

“I do know that. Because I’m an excellent kisser.”

“Don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy it, too,” Ben says, “I’m the best kisser you’ve ever had the pleasure of kissing. You can die happily, because you have had the opportunity to kiss me, and everything else in life is downhill from here.”

“It does not bode well for me if kissing is where you peak,” Beatrice laughs, and Ben’s face goes red.

“That is – that is taken out of context,” He defends. “Let’s go back to how you were wrong about never kissing me again.”

“Oh,” Beatrice immediately holds her hands up and slides away from him, smiling deviously, “I was wrong, was I? Okay. You’re right, it’s important to stick to my word. I said I would never kiss you again, and I should stay true to that. Don’t worry, Ben. I _promise_ , I will never kiss you again.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, let’s not get carried away here,” he takes her hands and tugs her back, “we all said things we didn’t mean. No need to hold ourselves to things we said when we were younger and stupider. I’m willing to overlook it, in this circumstance.”

“Well, that’s very gracious of you,” She says, “especially considering you have never made a mistake in your life.”

“Exactly,” Ben nods solemnly, “I am the world’s first perfect human. I’ve never said or done anything I regret. I’ve never even so much as misspoken. You are truly blessed to know me.”

“Let’s not get carried away,” Bea says, and when she kisses him again, it’s even better than before.


	27. Successful Babysitting Adventures!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For anon, who requested Balthazar and/or Pedro babysitting Bea and Ben's daughter.

“Thank you so much for doing this last minute,” Beatrice said gratefully, grabbing her jacket, “Hero was all set to do it, but Celia’s just come down with some kind of flu or something, so obviously she’s got to stay home with her.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Pedro said, “it’s no problem.”

“We were just going to stay in and have a movie night anyways, this is way more exciting,” Balth added. “Besides, it’s been awhile since we’ve seen her.”

“Any word from the adoption agency, by the way?” Bea asked, rooting around in her purse. “Ben! Where are my keys?”

“I’ve got them!” He called from the other room.

“Yeah, actually,” Balthazar said, smiling wide, “the other day we had a social worker over to meet with us and check out our house, and that went really well, so now it’s just a matter of waiting for them to match us with a kid. It could take months, but –”

“But still! That’s so exciting!” Beatrice cried, hugging them both, “Congratulations! When Ben and I get back tonight, we’re going to celebrate. We’ll get some champagne.”

“Sounds like a plan. Speaking of Ben – weren’t you supposed to be on your way ten minutes ago?” Pedro asked. Bea glanced at the clock on the wall.

“Fuck,” she cursed under her breath. “Ben! We’ve got to go!”

Ben came running into the room, carting around their three year old on his back.

“Sorry – we were playing Lord the Rings and I got a little too into my role as Gollum.”

“How do you play Lord of the Rings? Do you just walk around in circles for six hours?” Beatrice frowned. She lifted Kat from Ben’s shoulders and kissed her cheek. “Are you excited to play with your Uncles?”

“Hey, Kitty-Kat,” Pedro waved. Kat smiled, and buried her face in Bea’s shoulder.

“She’s shy,” Ben explained, “Can you believe that? Our daughter, shy?”

“Okay, we are officially running too late to get there on time,” Beatrice announced. She gave Kat a squeeze, and Ben bent to kiss her on the head. “Bye, honey.”

“Be good for your Uncles,” Ben added, and Bea passed Kat over to the Pedro. “Love you!”

“We’ll see you in a few hours,” Beatrice said, already out the door, “and don’t forget! We’re celebrating when we come home!”

“Hey, Kat,” Balthazar grinned, “I brought my ukulele. Want to play a song with me?”

Kat’s whole face lit up, and she nodded.

“Mumma’s song?” She asked.

“Sure, we can sing your mum’s song.”

“Did we ever tell you your dad wrote a song, too?” Pedro carried her into the living room, Balth following behind, tuning his ukulele. “We’ll wait til you’re a little older to teach you that one, though.” He put her down on the couch, and she settled between the two of them, watching with wide eyes as Balth strummed. She reached out and plucked experimentally at one of the strings.

“I think someone might need a ukulele of their own,” Pedro laughed.

“Do you remember how the song starts?” Balthazar asked.

Kat nodded, and began to sing along.

-

“So much for celebrating,” Beatrice sighed, setting the champagne on the coffee table.

“The little ones are so cute when they’re sleeping,” Ben practically cooed. “Seriously, have you ever seen something so cute in your whole life?”

Pedro and Balthazar were both fast asleep on the couch with Kat curled up between them, her head resting on Pedro’s leg and her feet stretch across Balth’s lap, cradling his ukulele to her chest like a teddy bear. Beatrice reached for her phone.

“A glimpse into their future,” She said, snapping a picture. “Remember how much crap they used to give us if we said we were too tired to go out?”

“They’ll be eating their words before they know it,” Ben agreed, scooping Kat up into his arms, careful not to disturb Pedro or Balth. Beatrice grabbed a spare blanket and laid it out on top of them.

“We’ll just have to celebrate tomorrow,” She said, carefully settling Balth’s ukulele aside and tucking a pillow under Pedro’s head.

“Can we still drink the champagne tonight?” Ben asked hopefully. Beatrice scoffed.

“Oh, we’re obviously still drinking the champagne tonight. It’s not our fault they couldn’t stay awake to enjoy it.”


	28. Silly Little Love Songs!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this one days ago and completely forgot to post it over here - oops!
> 
> For anon, who requested Balthazar telling Pedro what 'An Ode' was really about.

It doesn’t come up, actually, until after they’re already together. Pedro’s doing homework, and he’s got his earbuds in. They’ve always enjoyed sharing music, it’s something they’ve done for as long as Balthazar can remember, so it’s no surprise when he asks him what he’s listening to. Pedro grins and takes out on of the earbuds and passes it to him, so they can listen together. He recognizes it immediately – he could sing it in his sleep, probably.  _From what you’ve told me he seems like he could be the one for you…_

“This is actually the first time I’ve listened to this song since before everything happened with Hero,” Pedro tells him, “It just felt like I didn’t deserve all the great things you say in it, you know? Even though you were joking, it still felt –”

“Joking?” Balthazar lifts his brow, “Come on, Pedro. You have to know by now that I didn’t write it as a joke.”

“No?” Pedro asks, and Balthazar gives him such a disbelieving look that he has to laugh. “Okay, I’ll admit, there was a part of me – a big part – that  _hoped_  it wasn’t a joke.”

“If I wanted to write a joke song, I would’ve written an Ode to Benedick,” Balthazar says, and Pedro laughs again.

“Now  _that_ I’d like to hear,” He says. “So… you were trying to woo me via song, then?”

“Half wishful thinking, half wooing. Not that it worked.” Balthazar rubs his thumb absently against Pedro’s wrist. “You were too thick-headed to get it. Which Ursula predicted.”

“Ursula knew it wasn’t a joke?”

“I’m pretty sure you were the only one who ever thought it was a joke,” Balthazar smirks, “you and  _maybe_  Claudio.”

“I’m not usually so oblivious, am I?”

“You aren’t exactly the greatest at reading people,  _Prince Charming_.”

“Low blow,” Pedro says, but he’s still laughing, “okay, so maybe I am pretty oblivious.”

“It’s okay. You got it eventually.”

The song ends, and Pedro starts it again. When it gets to the line  _would his hand fit in yours_ , Pedro reaches over and takes his hand.

“What do you think? Better than any other guy’s ever could?” He asks.

“I’d have to hold hands with a few more guys to find out for sure,” Balthazar teases, “but I’d rather not test the theory.” He lets his head fall onto Pedro’s shoulder, and Pedro presses a kiss to his temple.

“Good answer.”


	29. Ask Queen Margaret (Part 2)!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For anon, who requested a followup to my earlier drabble where Meg gives Bea sex advice.

**Text from Queen Margaret, 10:45am  
** So?!?!?!

 **Text from Queen Margaret, 10:52am  
** QUIT LEAVING ME HANGING

HOW WAS IT

 **Text from Queen Margaret, 11:07am  
** BEATRICE GODDAMN DUKE, TEXT ME BACK THIS MINUTE

 **Text from Bea!, 11:10am  
** I’m out with the Aunties, can’t talk

 **Text from Queen Margaret, 11:11am  
** You’re dead to me until further notice.

Call me the MINUTE you’re free.

 **Text from Bea!, 11:12am  
** Ghosts can’t dial phones.

**-**

Bea knew Meg well enough to know that if she didn’t come over and voluntarily share the details herself, then Meg would just show up at Ben’s house and hassle them _both_. So she texted Ben to let him know she was making a pit stop and headed to Meg’s place.

Meg practically pushed her up the stairs, immediately shutting and locking the door behind her before sprawling out across the bed, lying on her stomach with her chin resting in her hands.

“Okay. I’m ready. Tell me _everything_.”

“What do you mean, _tell you everything_. It happened. What more is there to say?” Beatrice arranged herself across from Meg, sitting cross-legged on the bed, a throw pillow in her lap.

“Um, there’s a _lot_ more to say,” Meg pressed, “How was it? Did it live up to expectations? Was it good? Was it bad? Was it freaky? I get the vibe that Ben would be into some seriously freaky shit.”

“Oh my God, perv,” Beatrice grabbed the pillow from her lap and covered Meg’s face with it, “you’re being aggressively gross right now.” Meg shoved the pillow aside, undeterred.

“Fine, I strike that last question from the record,” She relented, “but as for the others, I still want answers!”

“I can’t even believe we’re having this conversation. It was – it was _fine_.”

“Fine sounds boring.”

“It definitely wasn’t _boring._ ”

“So it was good,” Meg grinned.

“Yes, okay, fine, it was good!” Bea said, “It wasn’t exactly what I had built it up to be, or anything, but we’re new at it, so –”

“So it’s only going to get better,” Meg finished. “Yay! Are you happy? No regrets or anything, right?” Bea shook her head.

“No regrets.”

“Good. One last thing.” Meg got up and went over to her desk, grabbing a notebook and pencil, both of which she handed to Beatrice. “I need you to draw it for me. I need it to be to scale, and I need you to include as much detail as possible.”

“What?! Oh my God, you are out of control!” Beatrice cried, swatting the paper away, “I have to get out of here. I can’t even look at you right now.”

“Going back for more already, huh?” Meg goaded, as Beatrice scrambled to collect her things and go.

“Hate you!” Beatrice called, slamming the bedroom door behind her.

“Love you!” Meg shouted back. “Remember! No glove no love!”


	30. Ask Queen Margaret (Part 3)!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For anon, who requested Ben asking someone for sex advice.

He wanted to talk to someone, he knew that much, but he didn’t have that many options. His parents were completely out of the question, obviously – they were exactly the type of people to carefully consider all of his questions, give him thoughtful answers, and then make sure he and Bea were fully chaperoned at all times until they were like,  _thirty_.

He supposed he could talk to Pedro, but he got the sense that he wouldn’t really  _want_ to talk about it – and besides, Pedro had never really dated around much, so he was probably working with an equally limited knowledge. Balthazar and Claudio were pretty much out for the same reasons.

He could’ve definitely asked Robbie, but he still really didn’t trust anything that came out of his mouth.

That pretty much left Leo, as far as guys in his life went, and he certainly couldn’t go asking Bea’s cousin (who, though he was working on it, still harbored some pretty misogynistic views) _“hey, how can I ensure sex with your cousin is great for all parties involved?”_  Honestly, asking Leo would be worse than asking his own parents. And he definitely wasn’t going to talk to Hero about any of this.

As far as he was aware, Ursula had zero interest in sex - but even if she  _were_ some kind of expert ( _sexpert?_ ), he really didn’t feel close enough to her to talk about it. That only really left one person.

Meg was laughing when she picked up.

“Hey, stud,” she greeted, “your lady love  _just_ left. What’s up?”

“I actually wanted to ask you for some advice…”

“You too?” Meg started laughing again. “You’ve come to the right person. Okay, grab a paper and a pencil, and  _pay attention._ ”

 


	31. New Years Kiss!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For anon, who requested Ben and Bea on New Year's Eve.

“Got any resolutions?” Ben asks, at two minutes to midnight.

“Ha,” Bea scoffs, “I don’t believe in making resolutions. Everyone always breaks them. Besides, don’t you think people should try to be their best selves all the time anyway? We shouldn’t need a holiday to motivate us to be better people.”

“ _I_ don’t break my resolutions,” Ben says, taking the seat next to her. “The secret is only making _short term_ resolutions. Ones that are literally impossible to break.”

“In that case, what’s the point?” She frowns. “If you make a resolution knowing you couldn’t possibly break it, does it even matter?”

“Sounds like someone doesn’t want to hear my resolution.” He makes a big show of feigning insult, turning his back to her. “Which is too bad, because you were directly involved.”

“Tell me,” she says, poking his shoulder, “I want to know. Mainly so I can laugh at you, but still.”

“Well, now I’m definitely not telling you.”

“Ten! Nine! Eight!” The rest of their friends are counting down, noise makers at the ready.

“Come on! Tell me!”

“Seven! Six! Five!”

“Only if you admit my resolution is excellent.”

“How can I admit that if you won’t tell me what it is?!”

“Four! Three! Two!”

“Fine!” She throws her hands up, “Your resolution is excellent! Whatever it is, it’s a good one. Now tell me!”

“One! Happy New Year!”

He takes her face in his hands and kisses her. Someone – he’s not sure who – dumps confetti on them. When they pull away, Bea brushes confetti off of his shoulder.

“What was your resolution?” She asks, shaking the confetti out of her hair.

“To kiss you at midnight,” He tells her. “See what I mean? You just pick a resolution you know you can keep. You should try it.”

“Okay,” She surrenders, “I resolve to continue wasting you at football.”

“I make a nice resolution about kissing you at midnight, and this is how I’m repaid? I’m wounded, Bea. Really.” He puts his hand over his heart and pouts. “By the way, that reminds me, you still owe me a rematch.”

“I was trying to spare you the embarrassment of losing again,” she says, “and I wasn’t finished with my resolutions, by the way.”

“My apologies. Go on.”

“My _second_ resolution, since we’re only making ones we know we can keep,” she says, “is to kiss you at midnight _next_ year.”

“There’s a resolution I can get behind,” he grins, nudging her with his knee, “who knew you were such a sap?”

“Just don’t tell anybody,” she warns, lacing her fingers with his, “I have a reputation to uphold.”


	32. Adventures in Parenting!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For anon, who requested Ben giving someone advice on sex.

“Where’s mum?” Kat asked, hovering in the doorway of the dining room, which her parents had effectively turned into their shared office space.

“And a happy hello to you, too,” Ben said, bemused.

“Sorry. Hi, dad. Do you happen to know where mum is? I need her to sign something for me.”

“It’s the last weekend of the month,” Ben reminded her, shutting his laptop, “she’s with your aunts for their getaway weekend.”

“Oh,” Kat’s shoulders slumped, “Okay. I guess I’ll just wait til she comes back, then.”

“Well, if it’s just as simple as signing something for school, I can do that,” Ben said.

“It’s just… it’s kind of something I’m a little more comfortable going to mum about,” Kat explained. “It’s for health class. You’ll just make it weird.”

“Make it weird?!” He cried, “I never make it weird!Remember when you got your period for the first time at school and your mother couldn’t get out of her meeting, so I was the one to pick you up? I gave you a very thorough presentation on menstruation! I made a slideshow! There was a soundtrack!”

“This is exactly why I want to wait for mum!” Kat cried, throwing her hands up in exasperation, “You can be so embarrassing! I just want you to sign a permission slip, not make me a powerpoint with _Not a Girl, Not yet a Woman_ playing in the background!”

“I’m not the only embarrassing parent in this family, I’ll have you know,” Ben defended, “or are you forgetting the time your mum accidentally flashed your entire classroom _and_ gave all the students food poisoning _in the same day_?”

“ _Please_ stop bringing up memories that I have deliberately tried to block out, Dad,” Kat groaned, rubbing at her temples.

“Okay, okay,” Ben held up his hands, “No funny stuff, I promise. Just let me sign your permission slip and we’ll move on with our lives.”

“Fine.” She thrust it out towards him, and he took it, reaching for a pen as he read it over.

“Sex ed, huh?” He noted, causing Kat to let out another frustrated groan.

“You said you wouldn’t make it weird,” She practically snarled.

“You sound just like your mother when you get like this,” He told her, signing the slip. “I have to say, though, I bet I can answer your questions better than any health teacher. Sure, they teach you the basics, but when it’s time for the real thing, you’ll be kicking yourself for not asking more questions.”

“Dad,” Kat warned, “you are rapidly approaching weird.”

“You have to be able to talk about these things, Kat,” He lectured, standing up and pacing the room, “if you can’t talk about sex, you aren’t ready for it.”

“I never said I was! I just needed you to sign the stinking paper so I can have the crap scared out of me by finding out which STDs are the silent killers that will leave me barren.”

“Jesus,” Ben gaped at her, “ _that’s_ what they’re telling you in health class? That’s fucking horrifying.”

“Yup,” Kat nodded.

“So they’re just using scare tactics?” Ben criticized, “Don’t get me wrong, that’s important, but they need to be telling you the good parts, too! They need to really paint you the full picture here! You shouldn’t just go into it blindly!”

“Are you and Mum going to take this up with the school board? Because dad, I cannot go through that again. People are only _just now_ forgetting about the time you  guys stormed a PTA meeting and gave a speech about why it’s wrong to separate by gender in gym class.”

“It was a problem that needed to be addressed! Wait, why, are they doing it again? Because we will go back there so fast –”  He stopped himself and took a deep breath, attempting to calm himself down. “Okay, not the current point, sorry. We should be focusing on the issue at hand: you getting the most well rounded sex education possible.”

“Remember what I said about you rapidly approaching weird?” Kat grimaced, “We’re there. The weird train has pulled into the station and you are the conductor. Please stop.”

“Lesson one,” Ben began, undeterred, “the importance of foreplay.”

“I’m calling mum!” Kat yelled, running from the room, “And I’m telling her you’ve completely lost it this time!”

“Ask her to put your Aunt Meg on the phone!” He shouted after her, “she’ll have some excellent tips!”


	33. A Really Lousy Day in the Universe!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For anon, who requested Bea and Ben having a cozy night in after a bad day.

It was an all-around lousy day for both of them. The kind of day that makes you want to sink into the floor and disappear for awhile – the kind where you just want to go back to bed and sleep until tomorrow. It started when Ben’s phone died in the middle of the night, which meant his alarm never went off in the morning, which meant he missed his first two classes of the day, which meant he missed a test in physics. It _also_ meant he couldn’t play in the football game that afternoon (which was the very last one of the season), according to school rules, which meant he got a lecture from Leo about responsibility and letting down the team.

Meanwhile, Beatrice twisted her ankle in the middle of gym class, and had to practically hop to the nurse’s office to get it wrapped and grab an ice pack. Then she had to hop her way to English, where she was meant to give a presentation on influential women in fiction, only to discover that the USB drive containing all her work was missing. Her teacher wound up docking her a full letter grade for failing to turn in the assignment on time.

When Bea got home, the house was empty. Hero had a piano lesson, and the Aunties went to support Leo at the football game. She dragged herself upstairs, throwing herself onto her bed and propping her foot up, only realizing after she was comfortable that she hadn’t grabbed a snack or made a cup of tea, and her laptop, phone, and all her books were on the other side of the room. She was debating whether or not it was worth it to get up again when she heard the front door open.

“I hope you’re not a murderer,” she shouted, “because I’m going to have a hard time running away with this stupid ankle!”

“What kind of thing is that to say to a murderer?” Ben called from downstairs, “You’re supposed to say something like ‘I’m up here with loads of weapons and huge, strapping men’!”

“Bring snacks and pain killers when you come up here!” She shouted, ignoring him, “there’s emergency chocolate in the cabinet above the stove! Bring it all!”

A few moments letter, Ben entered, two bars of chocolate and two advil in one hand and a bag of potato chips in the other.

“You really need to clean your room,” He said, side stepping her backpack, which was haphazardly dropped in the middle of the floor. “Otherwise I’ll twist my ankle too, and you won’t have anyone to bring you snacks. Move over.”

“Careful of my foot,” she warned, carefully shifting over to make room. He passed her the chocolate and chips and sat beside her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “This has been the worst day.”

“A really lousy day in the Universe,” he agreed.

“The snuggling helps, though,” she admitted, resting her head against his chest.

“That’s true,” he said, pressing a kiss to her head.

“Hey,” she said slowly, tracing lazy circles on his shoulder with her finger, “do you love me enough to make me some tea?”

“I don’t know,” He winced, pretending to contemplate it, “That means I have to go _all the way_ back downstairs. And I _just_ laid down. And I’m _really_ comfortable.”

“I would do it myself, but I’m currently in the throes of a medical emergency,” She reminded him, pointing at her ankle. “Besides, you’re always in the mood for tea, so you’d probably wind up going and getting yourself a cup anyway. I’m just making a preemptive strike.”

“I don’t think twisting your ankle qualifies as a medical emergency,” Ben said, amused, “but I’m feeling generous, so I’ll make a deal with you. I will go make you and I tea, out of the kindness of my heart, if you post on your twitter that you have the best boyfriend on earth. Also, you have to share your emergency chocolate with me.”

“That’s so disgustingly sappy,” she grimaced, “and this is my favorite kind of chocolate!”

“Then I guess you don’t really want tea,” Ben shrugged.

“Okay, fine,” Beatrice sighed, handing over one of the chocolate bars, “I’ll do it. Only because you had a crappy day, too. Pass me my laptop.”

“I’ll be back in two ticks,” He promised, jumping up and handing her laptop over. “I want to see the proof when I get back!”

“Grab _Young Frankenstein_ while you’re down there,” Bea said, turning her computer on, “Mel Brooks can make any crappy day better.”

“On it!”

Ten minutes later, they were curled up on Bea’s bed sipping mugs of tea, the laptop precariously balanced on their legs.

“This is nice,” Bea said, grabbing a handful of chips, “It doesn’t seem like such a lousy day anymore, you know?”

“I know what you mean,” he nodded, grabbing the last bit of chocolate from her. “I’d choose this over a football game any day.”


	34. Adventures in Parenting (Part 2)!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For anon, who requested more Beadick as parents.

“Sam, go upstairs and get your sister for dinner,” Bea said, setting cups and silverware around the table.

“She won’t let me in her room,” Sam glanced up from his homework, “and she’s not having dinner with us. She’s getting ready for a date.”

“A date?” Bea asked, just as Ben burst into the room, boasting an apron that said ‘world’s best dad’ and brandishing a spatula.

“A _date_?” He repeated, casting an incredulous look Bea’s way.

“Why are you looking at me like _I_ know anything about this?” She frowned. “And I thought I burned that apron. The sentiment doesn’t count if you buy it for yourself. Plus, it’s tacky.”

“I bought another one,” He said smugly, smoothing down the front of the apron, “it’s called _believing in yourself_ , Beatrice.”

“Focus, Ben. Daughter. Dating. Not telling us about it. Can we deal with this, please?”

“Because if you want a World’s Best Mom mug or something, we can make that happen,” he went on, “your birthday is coming up. We can get you a mug. Or a jaunty hat!”

“Kat, can you come down here, please?” Bea hollered up the stairs. She turned back to Ben, hands on her hips. “Get it together, Hobbes. Get your parenting face on.”

“What’s up?” Kat asked, still putting her earrings in, “I have to hurry, I have a group project I need to go work on.”

“Really,” Ben raised his brow, “because we were under the impression you had a date tonight.”

“You _told_ them?!” Kat snapped, immediately turning to her brother, whipping off her shoe and throwing it at him. He ducked out of the way in the nick of time, and her shoe knocking a cup to the ground. “What the fuck, Sampson. You’re dead to me.”

“Hey! No violence in this house, please!” Bea snapped.

“Says the woman who threatened to eat someone’s heart,” Kat grumbled, with a heavy eye roll.

“I still cannot believe you found those videos,” Bea rubbed tiredly at her temples and sighed.

“The internet never forgets, mum,” Kat chirped, “ _that_ is a lesson that you both taught me.”

“We didn’t think you were going to google us afterwards to prove some kind of point,” Ben said, frown deepening. “But that’s not the issue here. You lied to us about having a date tonight.”

“I’m never telling you anything again,” Kat snarled, glaring a Sam, “so long, sibling bond.”

“This is revenge for telling them about my report card,” Sam replied, shrugging easily.

“Kat. Who is this person you’re going out with?” Ben demanded. “And why didn’t you tell us?”

“Why didn’t I tell you?” Kat scoffed, “Why didn’t I tell the woman who genuinely wanted to become a spinster and the man who says relationships are fucking terrible when they were my age?”

“You learned _all_ the wrong lessons from those videos, I swear,” Bea shook her head. “You really felt like you couldn’t come to us?”

“You talk about how relationships at my age are meaningless all the time,” Kat pointed out. “Dad picked us up at school yesterday and saw two kids holding hands and went on a whole tangent about how it would never last.”

“True, he did,” Sam chimed in.

“And last time we had dinner with Auntie Hero, Celia mentioned having a crush on a boy at school and you lectured her for an hour about how boys aren’t worth the trouble, mum.”

“It wasn’t an hour,” Bea argued weakly.

“It was _so_ an hour,” Sam said, “we literally timed you.” Kat smirked, triumphant.

“It makes you both hypocrites, by the way. _You’ve_ been together since _you_ were in high school.”

“That’s true, Kitty-Kat, but you’ve got to understand how rare that is. Most people don’t marry their high school sweetheart,” Ben said gently.

“Pedro and Balthazar did,” Kat said.

“Again, that’s – that’s a _really_ unlikely outcome,” Bea said wearily.

“We’re basically defying statistics,” Ben added.

“It just seems unfair, that’s all,” Kat shrugged, “I didn’t want you rooting against me just because of my age.”

“We’re never rooting against you, Kat,” Bea said, wounded, “we’re your biggest fans.”

“Pff,” Sam scoffed, “she’s not even telling you the biggest part.”

“Wait, what’s the biggest part?” Ben asked.

“Sam, you are the _worst sibling on earth_ ,” Kat hissed through gritted teeth, “I hate you.”

“The biggest thing is _who_ the date is with,” Sam grinned at his parents, “You’re gonna freak out.”

There was a honk outside.

“Gotta go!” Kat cried, grabbing her purse, “later!”

“They aren’t even going to come to the door?” Bea frowned, “That’s a little rude.”

“I told her not to,” Kat rolled her eyes, “specifically to avoid this scene with you two.”

“We’re not going to do anything humiliating,” Ben said, “just have her come inside. Just to say hello.”

“You’re already embarrassing the entire family with the apron,” Bea wrinkled her nose.

“Again with the jealousy regarding my apron…”

“Careful, Dickface,” Bea teased, “your burgers are going to burn.”

“Okay, I’m officially leaving,” Kat interrupted.

“No way!” Bea grabbed her by the strap of her purse, “Invite her in. Just five minutes – three, even, to say hello.”

The doorbell rang.

“Shit,” Kate cursed, “shit, shit, fuck.”

“I’ll get it,” Ben sing-songed.

“No!” Kat tried to stop him, but he was already opening the door. When he saw that it was Pedro and Balthazar’s daughter, his face split into a huge grin.

“Hey, Ben,” She greeted pleasantly, “is Kat ready?”

“Is that Miranda?” Came Bea’s surprised voice. She came up behind Ben, smiling wide. “What a surprise.”

“So the two of you are going on a date, huh?” Ben beamed. “Kat, why didn’t you tell us? This changes everything!”

“They know?” Miranda turned to Kat, suddenly nervous.

“ _This_ is why I didn’t tell you,” Kat groaned, “we knew you guys were going to make a big deal.”

“Please don’t tell my dad’s,” Miranda added, “we’ve only been together for a month, and –”

“A month?!” Bea cried.

“A whole _month_ ,” Ben’s jaw dropped, “you’ve kept this a secret for a month?!”

“We didn’t want everyone getting involved,” Miranda said apologetically, “at least not right away. I mean, it’s no secret that you guys like involving yourselves in other people’s love lives.”

“You showed _her_ the videos?” Bea frowned at Kat. “Did you show the whole world?”

“Pretty much,” Sam snickered from the other room.

“We really need to delete those…” Ben sighed. “Alright, fine, get out of here. But be home by midnight, Cinderella.”

“No problem,” Miranda grinned, “my dad’s want me home by eleven thirty.”

“Remember, don’t tell them!” Kat added, as the pair of them headed for Miranda’s car.

“Have a good night!” Bea called after them. She shut the door and turned to Ben, beaming. “I can’t believe this is actually happening.”

“This is the _literal dream_ ,” He said, practically giddy. “How long do we wait to tell Pedro and Balth?”

“Oh, I’m already dialing,” Bea assured him, whipping out her phone.

“You guys are ridiculous,” Sam complained, “If this is how you’re gonna be, I’m _never_ dating.”

“Good attitude, son,” Ben ruffled his hair. “At least one of my children takes my advice.”

“Pedro? It’s Bea. Are you sitting down? I have the _greatest news ever_ …”


	35. All Hail the Queen!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for anon, who requested Meg telling the girls she had sex for the first time.

“Movie sex is  _so_ unrealistic,” Meg announced casually, rolling her eyes. Hero and Ursula and even Bea, who was visiting for the summer, were squeezed on the couch in Meg’s basement, a jumble of limbs tangled together. Meg was sitting at the far end of the couch with her legs across all of their laps. They’d spent the whole evening watching movies – they weren’t even sure what time it was anymore. Late, definitely. Or early, depending on how you looked at it.

“How would you know?” Bea scoffed, throwing a piece of popcorn at her. It stuck in Meg’s hair, and she plucked it out and popped it into her mouth.

“Because I’ve had sex,” She shrugged.

“Really?” Hero’s eyes widened.

“With who?” Ursula asked.

“Robbie,” Meg let out a dreamy sigh, “He’s on the football team with Pedro and all them.”

“Are you even dating?” Bea frowned.

“Not that it matters,” Meg made a face, “but yes.”

“Huh,” Ursula said.

“How long have you been together?” Hero asked. Meg’s wistful smile returned.

“A month,” she said.

“Hey,” Bea nudged Meg with her elbow, “if movie sex is so unrealistic, what’s it like  _really_?”

“It’s just –” Meg paused, considering her answer. “it isn’t all pretty looking with low lighting and gentle music, you know? It’s way more… it’s real.”

“Do you feel any different?” Hero asked, drawing her knees to her chest.

“No,” Meg snorted, “why would I feel different? It just isn’t that big of a deal to me, I guess.”

“You know what  _is_ a big deal?” Ursula grabbed the bowl from Bea and held it upside down. “We’re out of popcorn.”

“A tragedy!” Meg gasped, jumping up and grabbing the bowl, “Try to stay strong, ladies. I’ll be right back.”

“You’re such a goof,” Hero giggled. Meg pinched her cheek.

“Correction, dear Hero,” she beamed, “I’m a Queen.”

 


	36. A Proposal (Pedrazar Style)!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For anon, who requested Pedro and Balthazar's proposal.

Balthazar proposes to him when they’re in the kitchen making breakfast one morning, Pedro standing over the stove making scrambled eggs, Balthazar standing by his side flipping pancakes.

“We should get married,” He says casually, spooning out more batter, “don’t you think?”

Pedro goes very still. The eggs start to stick to the pan and smoke, and Balthazar turns to him, growing more nervous by the second.

“Or not,” he says quickly, “we don’t have to. I just thought, you know, we’ve been together for a long time now and we’ve talked about it before, so I thought…” He trails off. Pedro still hasn’t moved. Balthazar reaches for the pan and moves it from the burner so they don’t set off the smoke detectors. “Forget I said anything, okay? I’m sorry.”

Pedro shakes his head, and abruptly walks out of the room. Balthazar’s whole face falls as he watches him go, and debates going after him, but thinks better of it. Instead, he flicks off the burner for the pancakes and grabs the pan of ruined eggs, scraping them into the trash.

“Balth.”

He turns, and Pedro’s standing right in the archway leading into the kitchen, holding a notebook.

“What’s this?” Balthazar asks, setting the pan in the sink. Pedro opens the notebook to the first page, and holds it out to him. Confused, Balthazar reaches out and takes it, looking down at the offered page. There, at the top, it says: _PROPOSAL IDEAS_. The whole page is littered with different plans, all in Pedro’s messy scrawl. It’s marked up with comments from other people, too – he recognizes Bea’s blocky handwriting, Ben’s chickenscratch, and even Hero’s neat cursive. Some things are crossed out and some are circled, with Ursula’s signature next to each of her edits. Meg made a few additions, most involving at least partial nudity, with big, bubbly hearts around each of her contributions. There are ideas that he loves (proposing at the park down the street from their apartment, right on the water) and ideas that he’s not so wild about (the one that says FLASH MOB with roughly a thousand exclamation points after it). It takes up three pages of the notebook.

“I’ve been trying to plan the perfect proposal for months,” Pedro says, when Balthazar finally looks back up at him. “I was going to do it on our anniversary.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Balthazar says. Pedro takes the notebook from him and sets it aside on the table, taking both of Balth’s hands in his own.

“I know this isn’t as romantic as some other ideas on that list, but – what do you say?” He asks, smiling hopefully, “Marry me?”

“Yes,” he answers, smiling down at their hands and bringing his gaze back up to meet Pedro’s, “of course yes.”


	37. The Unspeakable Summer!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For majesticflamangoes, who requested what happened with Bea and Ben when they were fourteen to make them hate each other.

It was their parents fault, indirectly.

They spent the whole summer glued to each other’s side, filling every spare minute of their days with each other. Neither of them had ever connected so instantly with anyone before. (Except, Bea would be quick to add, for Hero – and even then, even though she loved Hero, would do anything for Hero, would die for Hero – they were fundamentally different people. With Ben, it was like they were cut from the same cloth. Like they were two sides of the same coin.) They knew exactly how to rile one another up, and exactly how to calm one another down.

“I don’t know what Ben’s going to do when his little girlfriend leaves,” he overheard his mother say to Bea’s, when her mum came to find her after she failed to head home on time, “they’re practically conjoined at the hip.”

“I know,” Bea’s mother replied, “they’re inseparable. It’s probably good that we’re leaving. I think Ben is a great kid, I do, but they’re a bit young to be so… attached.”

In the kitchen, where he’d been getting tea and snacks for he and Bea, Ben nearly dropped the kettle. Girlfriend?  _Bea?_  Is that what they thought this was? Was that what  _Bea_ thought it was?

“I know what you mean,” his mother chuckled affectionately, “I thought I at least had a few more years before we’d have to deal with the whole dating thing.”

“Well, I imagine they’ll be breaking up as soon as we head back to Wellington,” Bea’s mother laughed, “I don’t think fourteen year olds have the patience for long distance.”

“Summer love,” His mother said, sighing.

Ben’s stomach dropped.  _Dating?_ Was he  _in a relationship_ and he didn’t even  _know_? Bea was going back to Wellington  _tomorrow –_ did that mean the relationship –  _that he didn’t even know he was apparently in_ – was over? He didn’t want to lose her – he liked her too much, she was his best friend. But if she thought they were dating, and if she thought they were  _breaking up_ , that was going to change everything.

“Benedick, go get Beatrice, will you? Her mother’s here,” His mother leaned into the kitchen. He nodded, not trusting himself to speak, and practically ran back to his room, snacks and tea forgotten.

“Was that my mum’s voice I heard?” Bea asked, already tugging on her shoes. “She’s going to be so mad. I completely forgot she told me to be back for dinner.”

“What do you think about relationships?” Ben blurted.

“Relationships?” Bea asked. “Like dating, or…?”

“Like dating,” He clarified.

“Um,” Bea shrugged, cheeks reddening, “I don’t know. Why?”

“Because I think they’re overrated,” He said, averting her gaze and pacing his room, “I mean, they’re  _really_ overrated. And they just – they just ruin friendships, you know? Relationships are like – they’re like butterflies! They die in three days. You know?”

“Actually, some butterflies live for up to a year,” She corrected, but her heart wasn’t in it. She felt sick, suddenly. What was he even trying to  _say?_  Where was this even coming from?

“Okay, Butterfly Expert, but in the grand scheme of  _life_ , that’s like three days.  _Less_ , even.” He was still pacing. Bea half expected him to wear a hole in the carpet. “And they’re stifling, and they’re weird, and nothing good can come of them. Being friends is way better than dating, right? Don’t you think? I mean, even friendships end –”

“So not only are relationships not worth it,” Beatrice said, face growing redder by the second – no longer from embarrassment, but from anger, “but friendships aren’t, either?”

“Friendship is better than a relationship,” Ben backpedaled, “but, you know, people say  _friends forever –_  but do they  _really_  mean forever? I mean. There’s no guarantee for that, is there?”

“Okay, sure,” Beatrice snapped, grabbing her bag, “sure, fine, whatever. Friendship is meaningless and relationships are even worse. Got it.”

“I wouldn’t say they’re  _meaningless_ ,” Ben said, “I just – I don’t know if they’re worth all the effort, if they’re just going to fail in the end. Right? I mean, you get where I’m coming from, right?”

Bea had  _always_ understood where he was coming from before – and vice versa – but this? She didn’t know what to do with  _this_. What did he mean, not worth it? What had this whole summer _been_ , then? She didn’t know why Ben was suddenly being so weird, so unlike himself, so  _mean_ – but she did know that she wasn’t going to let him see how hurt she was. She didn’t like letting anyone see the vulnerable side of her – much less dickfaces who were suddenly being complete jerks for no reason.

“Of course,” She huffed, “yeah, you’re right. Totally not worth it. We’re on the same page.”

“Good,” he looked relieved, “great. Okay. So I’ll see you tomorrow before you leave?”

“My mum’s waiting,” She said, and she shoved past him.

She decided right then and there: if that’s the way he was going to be, she was done. He thought her friendship was worthless? Fine – she’d do them both a favor, then, and remove him from her life for good.

-

She was supposed to be there at ten, so they could say goodbye before her flight, but she never showed up. Ben sat on his front steps and waited for almost two hours, until his mum gently pointed out that Bea and her family were probably already boarding their flight.

He was confused, at first, and then he was angry. They had the best summer together, and out of nowhere, she was just going to bail on him like that and not say goodbye? He’d been so relieved the day before, when she said they were on the same page. Sure, she seemed a little miffed when she left, but that was just how Bea  _was_ sometimes. For all he knew, she was irritated that her mum was making her leave.

He couldn’t pretend he wasn’t hurt that she didn’t say goodbye. And the more he thought about it, the angrier he was with her. He decided right then and there:  if that’s the way she was going to be, he was done. She didn’t think he was worth saying goodbye to? Fine – he’d do them both a favor, then, and remove her from his life for good.


	38. Valentine's Day (Beadick Style)!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For jesuisdansserdaigle, who issued me the following challenge: an overly sarcastic Bea/Ben Valentine's day that gets out of hand. Must include the sentence, "I TOLD you putting it in the oven was a bad move!"

The kitchen was on fire.

Well, not the _whole_ kitchen – just the oven. The contents _inside_ the oven.

It started as a challenge. In the weeks leading up to Valentine’s, any time they saw an advertisement or pink hearts or candy, they’d immediately start mocking it.

“It’s so stupid,” Bea complained, “it’s just a made up holiday.”

“The commercialism – the _consumerism_. It’s appalling,” Ben replied, with a shake of his head.

“And they act like it’s this big romantic thing, like we need a whole day dedicated to love, like romance is _hard_ ,” Beatrice rolled her eyes, “like valentine’s day is the be-all, end-all day for relationships or something.”

“I’m already the greatest romancer history has ever seen as it is,” Ben said – and _that_ was where it started, really. Bea smirked.

“Is that so?” She asked. “Could’ve fooled me.”

“Are you saying I couldn’t pull of a successful Valentine’s day date?” Ben demanded, appalled. “I cannot believe my abilities are being called into question. Do you not remember that _incredibly romantic song_ I wrote for you?”

“Incredibly romantic songs don’t typically include the word ‘horny’,” Bea said, “and yes, I am questioning your ability to pull off a cliché Valentine’s date. Luckily for you, I don’t _want_ to celebrate Valentine’s day, so you’ll never have to try.”

“Maybe you don’t want to celebrate it because you know _you’d_ be bad at it,” Ben countered. “Maybe you’re embarrassed by your complete lack of skills in the wooing department.”

“My wooing skills are _fine_ , thank you,” Beatrice said, planting her hands on her hips, “better than _yours_ , for sure.”

“Prove it,” Ben said, and that’s how they wound up setting fire to the kitchen.

-

He showed up at her place wearing a suit, with a bouquet of roses, a teddy bear, and box of chocolates in hand. She answered the door wearing the ridiculous pink dress she’d tried on when she, Meg, and Hero were finding costumes for Pedro’s party. (Hero helped her sew up the ripped part, and showed her how to properly wear it.)

“Oh, _hello_ darling,” She greeted, her voice pitched up and dripping with sarcasm, “Happy _Valentine’s_ Day, oh I’m just so _happy_ , it’s so _romantic_.” She grabbed the teddy bear and pretended to swoon, leaning against the door frame.

“Happy Valentine’s day, my dove,” Ben responded in an equally ridiculous voice, “I come bearing gifts. Romantic ones, specifically.”

“Oh, this chocolate will go perfectly with the salad I’ve been making,” She gushed, taking it from him. She paused when she saw the flowers, dropping the act. “Did you seriously bring me dead flowers?”

“They’re not _dead_!” Ben was quick to correct, “If they were dead, they’d be wilted. These ones haven’t even bloomed yet. All the good ones had been sold already. Have you ever tried to buy roses _on_ Valentine’s day? It’s basically impossible. But don’t worry, I have a technique for getting them to bloom faster.”

“Is it called putting them in water? Because I have to tell you, you are not the first person to come up with that,” She said, leading him into the kitchen, where there was already a bowl of chocolate and mango slices. She opened the chocolates from Ben and dumped them in, giving it a quick toss. “By the way, Valentine, I made us dinner. It’s literally one of the only things I know how to make, but luckily for us, it’s super romantic.”

“How are spaghetti and meatballs romantic?” Ben laughed, admiring the truly enormous mountain of food, “And how come you made enough to feed a small army?”

“I have no concept of portion sizes,” Bea waved him off, “and duh, Lady and the Tramp. Pushing meatballs around with their noses? Eating the same string of spaghetti?”

“You want me to ruin a perfectly good meal by putting my _nose_ in our _food_?”

“Well, when you say it like _that,_ ” Bea frowned. “What’s your top secret flower blooming technique, by the way?”

“Ah yes!” He reached behind her and turned her oven on, cranking it to the highest setting. “If we just put the bouquet in the oven for a minute, it makes it bloom quicker.”

“I one hundred percent do not believe you,” Beatrice said, immediately reaching for her phone, “and I’m going to prove you wrong. We’re googling this.”

“Do not disrespect me with a _google search_ ,” Ben sneered, “that’s so insulting. Trust me on this one, Bea. If we just let the oven get hot and stick them in there for a few minutes, they’ll be blooming in no time.”

“Where did you allegedly learn this? Like, what is the logic behind it? I can _only_ see this ending badly.”

“The heat causes the petals to fall open, _obviously_ ,” Ben replied matter-of-factly.  He rooted around the cabinets until he found a cookie sheet, and he laid the bouquet on it, still wrapped. “It only takes a few minutes.”

“Well, I still don’t believe you.”

“You’re not being a very supportive valentine,” Ben chastised. 

“Sorry, _cupcake_ ,” Bea laughed, and reached for her laptop. “Will this help? I made a special super romantic Valentine’s playlist, complete with the cheesiest, stupidest, dumbest love songs I could think of.” She hit play, and instantly, Nat King Cole started crooning. _L is for the way you look at me…_

“I’ve always hated this song,” Ben said, as he put the tray of flowers in the oven. “So basically, it’s the perfect choice.”

“It’s so cheesy,” Bea laughed, and she grabbed a spoon, pretending it was a microphone. “ _V is very very… extraordinary! E is Even more than anyone that you adore…_ ”

Ben laughed and grabbed her hand, pulling the spoon towards him, singing into it.

“ _And love is all that I can giiiiiive to youuuuu, love is more than just a gaaaame for twoooo,_ ” He crooned. Beatrice joined in, and the both of them finished the verse:

“ _Twoooo in love can make it! Take my heart, but please don’t break it, love… was made for me and you!”_ They collapsed into each other, laughing hysterically. Just when they were about to launch into the next verse, the smoke detector started blaring. They immediately whirled around to face the oven, which had smoke billowing out of it. Ben grabbed the handle and yanked it open, letting even more smoke pour out. The flowers, and their wrapper, had gone up in a fiery blaze.

“Oops,” Ben said, and he slammed the oven door shut.

“Oops? _Oops?_ Are you kidding me? _Oops_?!” Beatrice cried, running to the opposite end of the kitchen and grabbing a fire extinguisher from under the sink, “I _told_ you putting it in the oven was a bad move!”

Ben opened the oven again and Beatrice did her best to extinguish it. Ben ran to the windows and opened them all, trying to air out the kitchen. When the flames died down, there was barely anything left but a thoroughly ruined cookie sheet and some charred petals. Beatrice was trying to catch her breath, one hand pressed over her rapidly beating heart. Ben grabbed a pair of oven mitts and pulled the cookie sheet out, dropping it into the sink.

“And to think,” Beatrice dropped the fire extinguisher to the floor, “I thought the Aunties were being ridiculous when they bought this for us before their honeymoon.”

“I don’t think we’re cut out for Valentine’s Day,” Ben said, reaching over to close Bea’s laptop, where Nat King Cole was still singing.

“Agreed,” said Bea, looking forlornly at the now ruined plate of spaghetti, which had been knocked to the ground in the midst of all the panic. “Valentine’s Day is not for us.”

“You did look good in that dress, though,” He sighed, looking her over. The dress had been ruined by the fire extinguisher, and one of the straps had broken somehow. “Just as beautiful and majestic as a flamingo.”

“If anyone else said that, I might be offended,” Beatrice replied, plucking a piece of chocolate from the bowl and popping it into her mouth, “but since it’s you, I’ll take it as high praise.”

Ben put his arms around her waist and pressed his forehead to hers.

“Sorry I burned your roses,” he said.

“Don’t worry about it,” She smiled and rocked up onto her tiptoes, kissing him, “I hate roses.”


	39. Adventures in Parenting (Part 3)!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for themighty-balthazar, who requested pedro and balthazar reacting to kat & miranda dating.

“Okay, Bea, I’m sitting down,” Pedro laughed into the phone, “what’s up?”

“Actually, wait, hang up. We’re getting on skype. This is face-to-face news. Actually - should we just drive over?” Bea was talking a mile a minute, and he could hear Ben say something in the background. “No, skype is better. We’ll just lose momentum if we have to wait. You better be logged on in two seconds.” She hung up.

“What’s up with Bea?” Balthazar asked, taking in Pedro’s stunned expression.

“I honestly have no idea,” Pedro shrugged, “but she sounds happy about it. I guess we’d better get on skype.”

Ben and Bea immediately video chatted them the second their ‘available’ icon appeared.

“That was  _not_ two seconds,” Bea said, the moment they came into view. She and Ben were side by side, sharing a chair. Both of them were smiling uncontrollably. “Are you ready?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Pedro said, “please, for the love of god, tell us what’s going on. You’re freaking us out.”

“Okay,” Ben said, “think about the  _greatest_   _thing_  that could possibly happen.”

“An anonymous person puts a million dollars in our bank accounts?” Balthazar suggested.

“Mumford and Sons asks Balthazar to be their opening act?” Pedro grinned.

“Adele releases a new album?”

“Okay, granted, those would all be excellent, especially the new Adele album,” Bea said, “but this blows it out of the water. But the news is actually –”

“Our kids are totally dating!” Ben blurted, practically bouncing in his seat. Beatrice turned to him sharply, glaring.

“What the hell, we were supposed to tell them together!”

“Wait – are you serious?” Pedro asked, looking back and forth from Balthazar to the computer screen. “It’s actually happening? This isn’t an elaborate April Fools prank, is it?”

“While laying the groundwork for a prank three weeks in advance is  _definitely_ something I would do, no. It is one-hundo-percent, for real happening,” Ben vowed, “And get this – it’s been going on for a  _month_.”

“Stop telling them all the good stuff!” Bea complained, elbowing him in the ribs.

“Really?” Balthazar asked, looking to Pedro and smiling, “A whole month?”

“We were surprised, too!” Ben said, “They didn’t want to tell us because they thought we’d make a big deal out of it and try and involve ourselves in their love lives. Ridiculous.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, are we pretending that they’re wrong?” Pedro smirked.

“Fair point,” Beatrice allowed, “but who could blame us? This is the dream. The dream is happening. Right now. We’re living it. Congratulations to us.”

“Hold on, I’m getting a text,” Ben said, grabbing his phone. He frowned, and read it out loud. “It’s from Kat. ‘I can’t believe you told them, you suck you suck you suck’. Cute.”

“Sam, did you tell your sister?!” Beatrice stood up and peered over the laptop at him. He glanced up from his dinner and nodded. “I can’t keep up with you.  _You were the one who told us in the first place!_  Whose side are you on?”

“Hold on, I’m getting a text too,” Balthazar pulled his phone from his pocket. Immediately, he started laughing. “It says ‘DON’T MAKE THIS WEIRD’ in all caps.”

“Way too late for that,” Pedro said, “I think the four of us discussing how psyched we are for this via skype definitely counts as making it weird.”

“It comes from a place of  _love_ ,” Ben said, “that counts for something, right?”

“It’s not like we’re already planning their whole lives together or anything,” Bea added, “although, let’s get serious, I don’t want to jinx anything but this pretty much means we’re totally going to be in-laws and the universe is going to explode from how awesome that is.”

“Kat just texted me to say she and Miranda are on their way back here to yell at you guys,” Sam said, coming up behind Ben and Bea. He waved to Pedro and Balthazar, who waved back. “Hi, by the way.”

“Honest to God, man, pick a  _lane_ ,” Ben cried, exasperated, “are you Team Parental Units or Team Sibling Bond?” Sam shrugged.

“Team Family Shenanigans,” He said, grinning. “It was getting kind of boring around here. Oh, hey, they’re pulling into the driveway.”

“Crap,” Bea said, “why do I feel like we’re the kids in this situation?”

“I’m not looking forward to this,” Pedro agreed, “have you ever won an argument with Kat? I feel like the minute Miranda became a teenager, we stopped winning arguments.”

“Yup. And Kat definitely inherited the ‘I’m always right’ gene from this one,” Ben said, jerking his thumb at Bea, who did not look amused. “You should see them go toe-to-toe sometime. It’s a sight to behold.”

“We’re gonna hang up before it’s too late,” Pedro said.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Sam warned, “Kat says if you guys aren’t still on skype when she and Miranda get inside, they’ll just drive to your house and do it all over again when they’re done yelling at these two.”

“Busted,” Balthazar sighed, shaking his head.

There was a crashing sound somewhere in the background, and then they saw Kat storming into view, Miranda just two steps behind and holding her hand.

“I swear, we were  _not_ this dramatic when we were there age,” Beatrice muttered.

“Every single one of you is dead to us,” Kat announced.

“See you at the funeral,” Pedro said, and he immediately closed out of skype, turning to Balthazar. “I figure there’s at least a fifty/fifty chance Kat will wear herself out yelling at those two. She’ll have completely lost steam by the time Miranda has to be home.”

“With parents like hers? Doubtful,” Balth laughed. “This is pretty great, though.”

“Best news ever,” Pedro agreed, “we should go out and celebrate.”

“You just want to get out of the house in case they show up here,” Balthazar accused, grinning.

“Also that,” He confirmed, grabbing his keys.


	40. Pedro and Balthy Gain a Daughter!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For haili-73, who requested Pedrazar + Adoption! Be careful not to get too sticky, because this is sappy as hell.

The call came while Pedro was at work, and he said yes right away. Then he took off, leaving little more than a hurried voicemail for his boss, hopping in his car and driving right to Balthazar’s studio.

“We should probably do one more take just to be safe, but I think we got it,” Balth was saying when Pedro burst into the recording booth. “Pedro? Are you okay? What’s –”

“The adoption agency just called me and said they have a kid who they think is a good fit,” Pedro said, breathless, “They want us to come meet her. I told them yes. I should’ve talked to you first, but we’ve been waiting for so long, so I thought –”

“Are you serious?” Balthazar asked, jaw dropping, “No, you did the right thing, I’m glad you said yes – when do we meet her?”

“She wants us to come down as soon as possible. It’s all really sudden and unexpected, so she said it’s sort of a now or never thing,” He explained, heart pounding. He glanced at the group of people just beyond the glass, standing around in front of their mics, waiting for Balth’s instruction. “Can you get away?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” Balthazar flicked the mic back on. “Hey, guys, I’m sorry to do this to you, but I have to go. Life-altering stuff is happening.”

“The good kind,” Pedro clarified, and Balthazar nodded.

“I’ll comp your next session,” He promised, and he and Pedro bolted for the car.

“One thing,” Pedro told him, when they were on their way, “she’s four years old. I don’t know the whole story yet, but her birth mum is voluntarily giving up custody or something? I know that’s not something we talked about, and that we were imagining a baby, but –”

“Doesn’t matter,” Balthazar said, shaking his head. He couldn’t keep still, he was so happy - bouncing his foot, drumming his fingers on the dashboard. He reached over and took Pedro’s hand in his. “I don’t care how old she is. All that matters is that we’ll be a family, right?” Pedro nodded, and it took all of his willpower to focus on the road instead of Balthazar.

“Right.”

-

Her name was Miranda, and the people at the agency warned them that she may be shy or afraid at first. (“She’s been through a lot,” they cautioned, “it’s been a whirlwind few days.”) They were nervous, themselves, walking in to meet her. (“Don’t be nervous,” the social worker said, “you don’t have to make any final decisions today. Today is just about spending a couple of hours getting to know each other.”)

Miranda was sitting on a bean bag chair playing with a toy car, running it up and down her arm, talking to herself under her breath.

“Can I sit with you?” Pedro asked, and Miranda looked up at him in wonderment. She nodded, and he sat down cross legged beside her. Balthazar did the same on her other side. She looked from one to the other, taking them in.

“Your name is Miranda, right?” Balthazar asked, and she nodded again. He smiled. “I like it. My name is Balthazar.”

“That’s silly,” Miranda giggled, and he and Pedro burst out laughing.

“It’s very silly,” He agreed.

“What’s your name?” She asked, running her toy car along Pedro’s leg.

“Pedro,” He told her.

“Oh,” she was trailing the car up his arm, now, stopping it on his shoulder. “Not silly.”

“Hey, Miranda,” Balthazar glanced around, eyes settling on a tiny toy keyboard in the corner. He grabbed it, balancing it on his lap. “Do you like to sing?”

“I like the one that goes –” She paused, bopping her head to non-existent music, “the one about stars.”

“Twinkle Twinkle Little Star? We love that song,” Pedro said, glancing at Balth, who was laughing. He pressed a few keys experimentally, then started playing it.

Miranda jumped to her feet and immediately started dancing, wiggling her arms and clapping her hands and jumping up and down in circles. She sang along, shouting the last word of every line. _Twinkle twinkle little STAR!! How I wonder what you ARE!!_ She tugged on Pedro’s hand, trying to get him to dance with her, too. He sat up on his knees and wiggled around with her, taking her hand and twirling her.He and Balthazar locked eyes over her head, both beaming.

 _I really want her_ , he mouthed. Balthazar nodded, starting the song over.

 _Me too_ , he mouthed back.

-

The day they legally adopted her, the small court office was full.

“You really didn’t have to come,” Balthazar said sheepishly, as their friends filed into the room.

“Do you even know us at all?” Beatrice scoffed. She had Kat on her hip, a six month baby bump, and Ben at her side, arm around her shoulder.

“We would never miss this,” Hero agreed. She, too, was pregnant – just about a month farther along than Bea.

“She’s my _niece_ ,” John added, “like I’m not gonna show up for that?”  

“Sorry, sorry! Are we too late?” Meg asked, bursting into the room with Ursula in tow, “there was so much traffic.”

“Plus Meg wasn’t ready when I picked her up,” Ursula smirked. “I waited outside her apartment for twenty minutes before she decided she was presentable.”

“Can we begin?” The judge lifted his brow, bemused.

“Sorry,” Pedro apologized. He bent to pick up Miranda. “We have very… _enthusiastic_ friends. Go ahead.”

-

They were supposed to go straight to Meg’s afterwards for a celebration, but when they got there, none of them made a move to get out of the car.

“I kind of can’t believe its official,” Pedro admitted, glancing into the backseat, where Miranda was asleep.

“I know,” Balthazar grinned, “me neither.”

“You know those moments where you can’t believe how lucky you are? That’s what I’m having right now.”

There was a tap at the window, startling them both. Pedro rolled the window down and John leaned his head in.

“Hey, Dads,” He teased, “are you coming inside or what? Everyone’s waiting. There’s a cake just begging to be cut.”

“Alright, alright,” Balthazar reached for his seatbelt, “here we come.” He went around and opened Miranda’s door, unbuckling her from her car seat.

“I can’t believe the guest of honor is asleep at her own party,” Pedro laughed. “I wonder what she’s dreaming about.”

“Whatever it is,” Balthazar hoisted her up, and her head lolled onto his shoulder, “this is better.”


	41. Truce!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for color-my-world-bright, who asked me to pick a lyric from a favorite song and write a beadick fic based around it! (I went with Don't You Want to Share the Guilt by Kate Nash, focusing on the lyric 'i say have you been crying and you say shut up/so we sit in the garden and touch grass with our hands'.)

She was only even  _at_ the park because she didn’t have a house key yet, and she hadn’t remembered to grab Leo  _or_ Hero’s that morning. Both of them were out of the house until four that day, which meant Beatrice was, too. Normally she was a strictly-indoors kind of person, but it was the rare type of day that Beatrice deemed the weather acceptable, so she’d decided to try and tackle some of her homework at the park. She had just sat down at one of the picnic tables when she saw a familiar figure a few meters away.

“Dickface?” She frowned as she approached him, taking in the way he was hunched over, eyes red and damp, knees drawn up to his chest. Her face softened. “Ben? Were you… _crying?_ ”

“Shut up, Beatrice,” he said, wearily. He looked exhausted. “Do me a favor and leave me alone. Don’t make this a worse day than it already is.”

She started to walk away, but something stopped her. At least fifty percent of the reason was curiosity – she wasn’t too proud to admit she was genuinely interested in _what_ would lead Ben to cry _in public_ in the otherwise empty park. And maybe living with Hero was rubbing off on her, because she knew if she’d seen literally anyone else in such a state, she would’ve stopped to make sure they were okay.

She dropped her backpack and sat down beside him.

“Any other day I would be happy to argue with you about whatever it is you want to argue, but I just don’t have it in me today, so please –”

“I’m not here to argue,” She said, holding up her hands, “this is me, waving the white flag.”

“Don’t tell me you suddenly genuinely care about my feelings,” He scoffed.

“What can I say,” Bea shrugged, “I guess I can only enjoy seeing you upset if I’m the cause of it.”

That, at least, got a laugh out of Ben.

“Do you want to talk about?” She offered.

“Nah,” Ben wiped at his eyes with the heel of his hand. “It’s just – it’s family stuff. I really don’t want to talk about it. There’s a high chance I’ll cry again, and that would be way too embarrassing. Especially in front of you. No offense.”

“None taken.”

“You really don’t have to stay,” He said.

“Do you want me to go?” She asked.

He shrugged. “Up to you.”

“You have opinions on literally everything else we’ve ever discussed, but _this_ is up to me,” She rolled her eyes. “Okay. I’m staying, at least until Hero gets out of piano practice. Luckily for you I’ve got _nothing much to do_ today.”

“Ha-ha,” He said dryly. He stretched his legs out in front of him and let his hands drop down to the grass. The tips of his fingers brushed against Bea’s, and though she bristled at the contact, she didn’t pull away.

“I hope this doesn’t mean we’re suddenly going to become best friends,” Ben said, and he had to stop himself from adding _‘again’_.

“No way,” Bea scoffed, “Don’t get used to this, Dickface. Tomorrow, it’s right back to hating each other.”


	42. Adventures in Parenting (Part 4)!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for thats-so-jokes, who requested ben crashing one of kat and miranda's dates.

Kat and Miranda were out on another date, and Sam was having a sleepover with some school friends, so they decided to meet up with Balthazar and Pedro and see a movie together. Ben offered to get the snacks, so the other three went into the theatre to scout out seats.

When Ben slipped in beside them a few minutes later, he was empty-handed.

“What the hell?” Bea demanded, “Where’s our popcorn?”

“You’ll never believe who’s here,” Ben whispered excitedly. “Our daughters! On a date! I didn’t want them to see me, so I ran back here before the snacks were ready.”

“Are you afraid of them or something?” Pedro laughed, “They don’t bite.”

“It’s not that,” Ben explained, “it’s that they’ve been dating for three months and they still never hang out at either of our houses. They’re so secretive! We don’t know anything about them!”

“They’re our  _children_ ,” Balthazar said, raising his brow, “I’d say we know them pretty well.”

“I meant them as a  _couple_ ,” He stressed. “I’m going on a super covert spy mission. Wish me luck.”

“You’re seriously going to spy on them?” Bea frowned. Ben nodded, and she broke into a mischievous grin. “Make sure you take pictures and text us updates.”

“Commence Spy Mode,” He said, saluting them and running down the steps.

He hung back in the lobby, half-hidden behind one of the pillars, looking around for Kat and Miranda. He saw them in the snack line, holding hands. Miranda was whispering something in her ear and Kat threw back her head and laughed.

They got their snacks, and Ben trailed behind them, following them into the dark theatre. He sat a few rows behind them. Miranda bent to kiss Kat’s shoulder, and Kat murmured something in her ear, making Miranda giggle.

Ben’s phone buzzed in his pocket, making him jump. It was a text from Kat –  _you need to work on your spy skills._

When he looked up from his phone, Miranda and Kat had slid in the seats next to him.

“Oh, hey there,” He greeted, feigning innocence, “funny running into you two here! Small world!”

“Oh yeah, big coincidence,” Miranda grinned. “You know, it’s the strangest thing – when Kat and I were in line getting snacks, I’m pretty sure I saw you run out of a different theatre and hide in a corner.”

“Huh!” Ben said, “How weird. Definitely wasn’t me, though. Nope.”

“And  _I’m_ pretty sure I saw you deliberately follow us in here,” Kat added. “Next time, maybe try not to do a barrel roll while you’re following us?”

“Damn,” He sighed, “I knew the barrel roll was pushing it. But people are always doing it in movies!”

“How come you followed us in the first place?” Miranda asked. “You could’ve just said hello.”

“Because the two of you refuse to spend any time with us when you’re together,” Ben said, “We’ve all been talking about it, and we’re beginning to feel left out!”

“We’ll make you a deal,” Kat sighed, “if you go back to your theatre, and if you  _promise_ not to treat us like we’re a pair flamingos at the zoo, we can all go out to dinner together when the movie ends.”

“You have my solemn vow,” Ben assured her, grinning. “And you should be so lucky that we look at you like flamingos – you know how highly I think of them! The fact that I’d rather hang out with you than flamingos is a real testament for my affection.”

“We’re truly honored,” Miranda laughed.

“Very touching,” Kat agreed, smirking, “Now get out of here before the movie starts.”


	43. Bird Nerds!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For fictionalbirds, who requested a Beadick fic that used the phrase "doing the do with you-know-who".

It was Balthazar’s birthday, and Bea had drawn the short straw, so she was the designated driver. They’d gone to a bar where one of his favorite local bands was playing, and they stayed long after their set. When the bartenders announced it was last call, Beatrice told (a very drunk) Ben that she was going to grab the car and bring it around, and asked him to rally the rest of their friends.

“Ben. Focus.” She took his head in her hands, leaning in so their noses were nearly touching. “Can you do that for me? Can you round everybody up?”

“Yes I can, beautiful,” He slurred. “One question: where are they?”

“Ursula left with John and Hero, remember? Meg, Pedro, and Balth are around here somewhere,” Bea gestured around the bar, “and I’ll be right back. Okay?”

“Okay,” He nodded, “I can do this.”

She brought the car around and ducked back inside, only to find Ben sitting exactly where she left him, alone at one of the tables. His whole face lit up when he saw her.

“Beatrice!” He cried, “You were gone!”

“And now I’m back,” She nodded. “I thought you said you could find everyone!”

“I did,” He said, “and then I lost them again.”

“I love you, but you’re useless right now,” Beatrice sighed, glancing around. She spotted Meg leaned over the bar, saying something to the bartender. She turned to Ben. “Don’t move. I’ll be back in two seconds.”

“That’s impossible,” Ben tried to argue, but Bea was already headed for the bar.

“Time to go, your highness,” She said, hooking her arm through Meg’s. Meg immediately burst into a fit of giggles, and turned back to the bartender.

“I told you I was royalty,” She said, poking him right in the chest. She turned to Bea. “I told him I was a Queen and he didn’t believe me.”

“And now he feels very foolish, I’m sure,” Bea said, gently pulling Meg’s hand away from the bartender, “but it’s time for us to go. Bedtime.”

“Bedtime is _boring_ ,” Meg pouted. The bartender exchanged looks with Bea and handed her a water bottle.

“Make sure she drinks it all before bed,” he advised.

“Thanks.” Bea took it and stuffed it into Meg’s bag, then guided her back to the table, where Ben was preoccupied with doodling something on a napkin.

“Don’t look!” He practically threw himself over it when she approached, “I’m writing you a note. A _love_ note.”

“Both of you stay put,” She said, as Meg slid into the seat beside Ben. “Do you have any idea where Balthazar is? _Think_ , Ben. Come on.”

“He’s doing-the-do,” Ben replied, still focused on hiding the napkin from Bea, who was becoming increasingly frustrated, “with you-know-who.”

“I swear to God,” Beatrice took a deep breath, trying to remain calm, “if you are trying to tell me he and Pedro are having sex in the bathroom, we are leaving without them. I don’t care that it’s his birthday.”

Meg started laughing so hard she gave herself the hiccups.

“ _No_ ,” Ben shook his head emphatically, “No! He’s playing the _thing –_ ” he mimed strumming a guitar “–with the _people._ ”

“I have never been so relieved in all my life,” She said, hand over her heart. Sure enough, in the corner of the bar, Pedro and Balthazar were squeezed into a booth with three of the guys from the band, Balthazar strumming at one of their guitars. She turned back to Ben and Meg. “ _Stay put_.” She marched over to the table and tapped them both on the shoulder.

“Okay, birthday boy and birthday boyfriend,” She said, waving them up, “we gotta go. The bar is closing and there are a bunch of sleeping bags in my living room just calling our names.”

“Sleeping bags?” Pedro repeated, frowning.

“Yes, sleeping bags,” Bea said, tapping her foot impatiently, “you’re all sleeping over. Remember? Let’s go, before we lose Meg again.”

Pedro and Balthazar both stood, Balthazar swaying a little.

“I’m drunker than I thought,” he admitted, wobbling.

“Just – hold onto each other for support or something,” Beatrice rolled her eyes.

“Good idea,” Said Pedro, looping his arm around Balth. “You should pull the car around.”

“I _did,_ ” She said, “so let’s get Ben and Meg and _go_ already.”

It took quite a few minutes to actually get everyone _inside_ the car, but soon they were on their way back to Bea’s, much to her relief. Everyone crawled into their sleeping bags, most of them too tired or too drunk to care about changing into pajamas, and within minutes, the soft snore of deep sleepers filled the room.

“ _Bea_ ,” Ben whispered from deep inside his sleeping bag, “Are you still up?”

“I’m _literally_ sitting up,” She said, gesturing to herself.

“So yes, then?”

“Yes, Ben, I am still awake.”

“Because I have something for you.” He started inching his way over to her, scooting across the floor on his stomach. He looked like a worm, all zipped up like that. When he finally got to her, he pulled his hand out from his cocoon, and thrust the napkin at her. “I wrote you a love note. Remember, I told you I was writing you one?”

“I remember,” She nodded, taking it from him. She recoiled immediately, horrified. “Ben, this is a Godzilla-sized Penis destroying a city.”

“Oops. Meg drew that.” He flipped the napkin over and handed it back to her. “ _This_ is the love note.”

It was a picture of an owl with two enormous eyes and a tiny beak. _BEATRICE_ , he’d written, _OWL ALWAYS LOVE YOU!_

“That’s a pretty good pun,” She grinned, “but _toucan_ play at that game.”

“Was that a bird pun?!” He cried, delighted.

“ _Shh_ ,” Beatrice cautioned, “you’re going to wake them up.”

“Oops,” he whispered, “I wouldn’t want to be a _birden_ on anyone _._ ”

“Very funny.” She tucked the napkin into her pocket. “Thank you for the picture. I love it. But I _egret_ to inform you, it’s time to go to sleep.”

“Probably for the best,” he admitted, “I’m a little too drunk to come up with another one right now. Night, Bea.”

“Goodnight, bird nerd.”


	44. A Hero and A Villain!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For theperksofbeingabooknerd (and for an anon who had the same request), who prompted John and Hero being friends.

The Duke’s and the Donaldson’s were family friends, so it wasn’t like she could avoid him. And when summer went away, so did all of their friends, so their comfortable buffer was gone.

It wasn’t that she hadn’t forgiven him, because she had. And it wasn’t that she was holding onto any bitterness, because she wasn’t. But it took more than a picnic and a party to form a friendship. They’d always had the others around, before, so when he and his parents came over for dinner the night before the new school year started, it was the first real conversation they’d had since that day in the park.

It was a little awkward, to say the least.

“Is it strange to have the house to yourself?” Hero asked. “I know I keep expecting to see Bea every time I turn a corner. It’s too quiet without her here already, and she’s only been gone a week.”

“It’s a little odd,” John shrugged. “Plus Balthazar was over so often, he was basically like a permanent houseguest. It’s weird not to have constant musical accompaniment.”

“You could always listen to your iPod,” Hero tried to joke, but it fell flat. John pushed around the cake on his plate with his fork. “Did you like it? The cake is actually earl grey, with lemon frosting. Ben saw the recipe online somewhere and sent it to me. I thought it sounded strange at first, but I’m actually really pleased with the taste.”

“I’m not a big dessert fan.”

“Oh,” Hero said, smile wavering. “Well. That’s okay. You don’t have to eat it.”

“Sorry,” John looked up, belatedly realizing his mistake. He took a bite. “I do like it.”

“I’m glad.” She folded her napkin over and over, unsure of what else to do, and wished one of the others were there to break the tension. It was like pulling teeth, talking with John. She couldn’t help but feel like she was bothering him.

“I got a car,” He said, stirring her out of her thoughts. He looked to her expectantly, and she couldn’t figure out why. She frowned, head tilted, and waited for him to elaborate. “So I don’t have to walk to school anymore.”

“That’s exciting,” she said, finally, still not understanding what he wanted from her.

“So I can give you rides to school too, if you want,” he explained.

“Oh!” She replied, surprised, “that’s very sweet of you.”

“Just a thought,” he shrugged, and he went back to pushing the cake around his plate.

-

She wound up taking him up on the offer. Since Leo had taken a coaching job at another school, she couldn’t pester him for rides anymore, and the hill really was a pain. Besides, he would have to drive past her house to get to school, anyway – it just made sense.

He was always exactly on time to pick her up. She was grateful it was less than a ten minute drive, because he never said much beyond ‘hello’, and after a few days she stopped trying to start conversations.

He was always already waiting in the car by the time she got to the parking lot at the end of the day, too.

“I always seem to keep you waiting,” She apologized, getting in the passenger side, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” He said, and he turned up the radio.

-

“I don’t think John likes me very much,” She admitted, on a skype call with Pedro, Balthazar, Ben, and Bea.

“Really?” Pedro frowned, “He told me you’ve been hanging out.”

“He gives me rides to and from school,” Hero corrected, “but he doesn’t really talk to me.”

“Anyone who doesn’t like you is an idiot who is unworthy of your time,” Beatrice told her, “Do not forget that.”

“He’s a man of few words,” Ben piped up, “you shouldn’t take it personally.”

“I just feel like I’m bothering him,” Hero fretted. “Maybe I should tell him he doesn’t have to bring me to school anymore.”

“John doesn’t do anything he doesn’t want to do,” Balthazar assured her.

“Yeah, if he’s doing this for you, it’s because he genuinely wants to,” Pedro agreed, nodding.

“But –”

“Seriously, Hero,” Pedro said, “trust me on this one. He’s my brother.”

-

She thought about baking him some cookies as a thank-you, but then she remembered what he’d said about not liking desserts. Instead, she consulted three different recipes and went to the grocery store, and made something new.

“What’s this?” He asked, when she handed him a neatly wrapped tin the next morning.

“A gift,” She said, “open it.”

He did so, and when he smiled and took a bite of the granola bar, she had to resist the urge to first pump. _Victory._

-

“How come you don’t hang out with Cora anymore?” She asked, when they’d been carpooling for a month, and she felt a little braver about talking to him, “I thought she was your best friend.”

“I still hang out with her sometimes,” He said, pulling out of her driveway.

“You do?” Hero frowned. “You always eat lunch alone.”

“I kind of wanted to distance myself from… everyone,” He mumbled, looking away. “Everyone who I hung around with before.”

“Oh,” Hero said. She bit her lip. “But… she didn’t have anything to do with all of that. My birthday. Did she?”

“No, it’s just –“ He stopped himself, sighing. “It’s just easier.”

“That’s too bad,” Hero said, “she probably misses you.”

-

She couldn’t help but feel a little pleased with herself when she saw John eating lunch with Cora the next day. Hero ate lunch with Dogberry and Verges most days – once she’d convinced them to stop apologizing for accidentally spreading rumors and any involvement in her birthday fiasco, they were sweet and funny to hang around with.

She locked eyes with John across the cafeteria, and she waved. He whispered something to Cora, who made a face, then both of them headed right for Hero’s table.

“Do we like them, or should we be afraid?” Verges asked, watching nervously as they approached, “I forget.”

“They’re _foul villains_ , Verges,” Dogberry hissed, “antagonists in our story.”

“We like them,” Hero corrected, “they aren’t villains _or_ antagonists, they’re just people.”

“Of course,” Dogberry said quickly, nodding profusely, “they’re perfectly fine people, Verges, perfectly fine. No need to be afraid of them.”

“Of course,” Verges agreed, though she looked unconvinced.

“Can we sit?” John asked.

“Please,” Hero smiled. “Hi, Cora.”

“Hey,” Cora nodded at her. She looked at Dogberry and Verges and made a sour face. “You’re not going to tie me up and try to feed me again, are you?”

“No!” Verges shook her head, red faced.

“And we aren’t going to kidnap you, either,” Dogberry added, “we have seen the error of our ways. Our intentions were good, but our methods were unethical.”

“Kidnapping is wrong,” Verges agreed, “also, illegal.”

“I told you we’d regret sitting with them,” Cora complained, looking to John, who had a bemused smile on his face.

“I think they’re funny,” he said. Hero beamed and looked away, smiling into her lap.

-

“I have to stop at the supermarket to pick up some things for Ann,” He said, when Hero got into the car that afternoon, “I can drop you off first if you want.”

“I don’t mind,” She said, “I actually really like the supermarket. When I was little, I used to get angry if mum and mumma ever went without me.”

“You can be in charge of the list, then,” John said, handing her a wrinkled paper. “I always forget something.”

They ran into Claudio in the cereal aisle, and Hero’s breath caught in her throat. She’d seen him plenty of times, of course – they’d talked it out and cleared the air, and he’d been invited to all of the parties throughout the summer, but he’d started coming around less and less as the months went on, and she couldn’t pretend she wasn’t grateful. Nobody had pushed him away (not even Bea, as much as she might’ve wanted to), but it was obvious that he no longer felt comfortable around any of them. He needed to separate himself from what he’d done, and Hero understood that. If that’s what it took for him to forgive himself and grow, how could she blame him? It was easier for her, that way, too.

“Hey,” he greeted, doing a double take at seeing Hero and John together.

“Hi, Claudio,” Hero said, her grip on the cereal box she was holding tightening ever so slightly. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” He said. “I’m just, uh…” he held up a box of cereal. “Just doing some shopping.”

“Right,” Hero nodded. She glanced back at John, who was standing back by their cart, pretending to read the nutrition information on the back of a loaf of bread. “Us, too.”

“Are you two, um,” Claudio hesitated, then shook his head. “Nevermind, it’s none of my business. I’ll see you around.”

“Are you okay?” John asked, coming up behind her. Hero let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding, and nodded. John didn’t look convinced. “Are you sure?”

“I’m fine,” She said, and forced herself to smile. “What’s next?”

-

By the end of first term, John and Cora were eating lunch with Hero every day. Cora claimed to be perpetually annoyed by Verges and Dogberry, but she never stayed away, or even so much as changed her seat. When she let it slip that she was a big Arthur Conan Doyle fan, they’d gotten so excited that Cora was afraid she’d broken them. It was a strange group, the five of them, but a nice one all the same.

“Um, John?” Verges asked, when lunch was over and they were all heading back to their classes, “I know you give Hero a ride every day, and I don’t know if you know this, but I live right next door to Hero, so I was wondering if perhaps – if it’s not too much trouble – if you wouldn’t mind –”

“I can give you a ride too, if that’s what you’re asking,” He said, arching his brow, amused.

“That would be great!” Verges beamed, “That’s really spectacular. I can help with you petrol, of course, or pay you back some other way –”

“It’s not a problem,” he said, “it takes ten minutes to get here. It’s not exactly emptying my tank.”

“If you’re going to be driving Verges,” Dogberry said, coming up on John’s other side and clapping him on the shoulder, “you may as well drive me too, since I’m only a few streets over. We’re usually together after school anyway, being partners and all, so it only makes sense –”

“Sure, fine,” John shrugged him off, “you can get a ride too.”

“Well, if you’re going to give Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb rides, you may as well give me one, too,” Cora chimed in, tossing her bag over her shoulder, “I hate that hill.”

So that’s how they wound up cramming into John’s car, every morning and afternoon, all five of them – John and Hero in the front, Cora riding in the middle back seat with Dogberry and Verges on either side of her.

“How did I get trapped in the middle?” She complained.

“My mum says I always have to sit behind the driver,” Verges explained, in a very serious tone, “she says it’s the safest place to be in the car, because the driver always instinctively protects their side in the event of a crash.”

“Ugh,” Cora rolled her eyes, “I’m sorry I asked.”

-

Second term started with Hero getting the flu, so she missed the whole first week back to classes. It was a very boring week – the Aunties and Leo were at work, so she filled her days with bad reality television, peppermint tea to settle her stomach, and lots of naps. She was still in her pajamas when someone knocked at the door around four on Friday afternoon – if she hadn’t been so sick, she would’ve been too embarrassed to answer.

“John,” She greeted, when she saw him standing on the front porch, “what a surprise. Come in.”

“I brought your homework,” He said, following her back to the living room, where she immediately crawled back under her blanket. He pulled a folder from his backpack and placed it on the coffee table.

“That’s so sweet of you, thank you.” She drew the blanket up to her chin. He remained standing, looming awkwardly over the couch. Hero pat the seat next to her, urging him to sit down. “Stay for a bit, I’ve been so bored. Have I missed anything good at school?”

“Verges is teaching Cora how to play the kazoo,” John informed her, sitting on the farthest end of the couch, “and Dogberry is trying to get me to read Sherlock Holmes. He thinks I could be an asset to their detective team, because I’m apparently very mysterious.”

“You aren’t that mysterious,” Hero smiled affectionately, “you’re just quiet.”

“Don’t tell them that,” John smirked, “you’ll destroy my carefully crafted image. The mysterious, brooding, friendless guy – that’s me.”

“You aren’t friendless,” Hero frowned, “You have plenty of friends, and that isn’t even _counting_ Pedro and the rest who have moved. Dogberry and Verges are your friends. Cora’s your friend. _I’m_ your friend.”

“I just said it was my image,” He shrugged, “that’s what people think of when they see me – weird loner.”

“Weird loners don’t drive full car loads of people to and from school,” Hero pointed out, “and they definitely don’t eat lunch with other people, or bring them their homework when they’re sick. I hate to break it to you, but you might have to live with people seeing you as weird-but-friendly guy. Might I even suggest, a _good_ guy.”

“Huh,” He said, thinking it over. “So… we’re friends, huh?”

“I definitely think so,” Hero confirmed, nodding. “Sorry. I know you used to have your heart set on being the villain.”

“Well, you know what they say,” John said, the corners of his lips twitching upwards, “Every villain needs a Hero.”

“And every Hero needs a friend,” She beamed. 


	45. Ain't No Lie, Pedro's Bi Bi Bi!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for anon, who requested ben and pedro while editing "one foot on sea..."

It was nice – really nice – to be hanging out with each other like this again. Pedro had spent so long sulking and brooding, it was nice to get back to their friendship, to find that rhythm again. Pedro was the closest thing he had to a brother, really, and he’d missed him.

They were sitting in the Duke’s kitchen, both hunched over the laptop and trying their best to be quiet, but then one of them would make a joke that would set the other one off, and they’d have to bury their faces in their hands to try and stifle their laughter. There was an empty platter next to the laptop, nothing left on it but the crumbs of the cake Hero had made, and three half-empty mugs of tea – all Ben’s, because he couldn’t decide which kind he wanted, and all of them long since cold.

“So… you and Balthy,” Ben nudged him, while they waited for the footage to upload, “that’s official, then?”

“Uh…yeah,” Pedro grinned sheepishly and ran his hand through his hair, “yeah, that’s official.”

“Good. It’s about time you got your heads out of your asses and got together.”

“You’re one to talk,” Pedro smirked, “it took you and Bea _four years_ to figure your shit out. And even then, you still needed a push.”

“We totally would’ve gotten together without you guys,” Ben tried to argue, but Pedro just shook his head.

“Maybe by the time you were thirty,” He conceded.  

“Hey,” Ben said, “I hope you didn’t feel like you couldn’t, you know, come to me or whatever about the whole bi thing. You could’ve told me. If you wanted to talk to someone, I mean.”

“To be honest, I was too busy trying to ignore it to talk to anyone about it,” Pedro admitted. “I only started really coming to terms with it after everything happened with Hero, and we weren’t exactly talking, you know?”

“Well, we’re talking now.” Ben pulled the laptop towards him and started typing something in the description box. “This is taking forever to upload. I’m never doing another video this long again.”

“What are you typing?” Pedro tried to pull the laptop back over. “Let me put something.”

“Just dictate whatever you want to say to me, and I’ll type it.”

“You can’t be trusted not to put something ridiculous,” Pedro argued, successfully snatching the laptop away from Ben. “I want to tell them about Balth’s gig tomorrow. Or today, rather.”

“And you think I couldn’t have typed that? Your lack of faith in me is truly disappointing.” He took the laptop back and started typing again. He started giggling, and slid the laptop back over to Pedro. “Look at the sign off. It’s hilarious, you’re gonna love it.”

“Bye Bi?” Pedro read, and then he started laughing. “I think your sleep deprivation is getting to you. That’s not that funny.”

“Then how come you’re laughing so hard?” Ben countered, which only made them both laugh harder. “It’s like that N*Sync song. _Bye Bye Bye._ More like _Bi Bi Bi._ ”

“You need to get some sleep, bro. You’re losing it.”

“ _It might sound crazy but it ain’t no lie, Pedro’s bi-bi-bi!_ ” Ben sang out off-key, and soon they were both doubled over, howling with laughter.

“Hey. Dummies.” Beatrice loomed in the archway, wearing pajamas and a particularly sour expression. “It’s three o’clock in the morning and everyone else is trying to sleep. What are you even still doing here?”

“Hullo, love!” Ben greeted brightly, “We’ve been up all night editing. Want to see the finished product?”

“Right now, I just want to sleep,” She replied, yawning. “Are you staying or going? I can set up the pull out couch for you, but you need to decide now, because once I go back to bed I’m not getting up again until at least nine.”

“Pull out couch, please,” Ben grinned. “We still have a lot of catching up to do.”

“Just keep it down,” She warned, heading into the living room.

“Do you think Balthy knows any N*Sync?” Ben asked, turning back to Pedro, “Maybe he can play backup while I serenade you with it.”

“Nobody needs anymore serenades from you,” Pedro said, “you rapping for Beatrice was enough to last us all a lifetime.”

“I’m gonna ask him. I bet he knows it.” Ben grinned, following Pedro into the living room. “I’m gonna text him right now. He needs to practice. I want this to be flawless.”

“There’s no way he’s still awake.”

“Don’t ruin my dreams, Pedro.”

“Go to _sleep_ ,” Bea said, throwing pillows at both of them.

“You should stay down here with us!” Ben said, throwing the pillow right back at her. “Slumber party style.”

“Yeah, Bea,” Pedro said, “you should stay and hang out.”

“Ugh,” She groaned, “ _fine_ , I’ll stay. But only if you swear you’ll go right to bed.”

“We swear,” Ben promised, “on Pedro’s honor as the bisexual student leader of Messina High.”

“Night, Ben,” Pedro said, rolling his eyes. “Night, Bea.”

“Goodnight, Pedro,” Ben grinned. “And goodnight, Beatrice. And goodnight, moon. And goodnight, cow who jumped over the moon. And goodnight –”

“Goodnight _everyone_ ,” Bea snapped, and she turned out the light.


	46. Truce (part two)!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Flamingmangoes, who requested a follow-up to the 'Truce' ficlet that explains why Ben was crying.

Neither of them spoke for a long while. At one point, Ben shut his eyes and leaned back in the grass, and Bea suspected he’d fallen asleep. She could’ve walked away, she supposed – he seemed alright now, and he was  _sleeping_ , for godsake – but there wasn’t any point, really. She was still locked out of her house. And it might be weird for him to fall asleep with her there and wake up only to find her gone. So she pulled out her homework and started to tackle some of it, books and papers spread across the grass in front of her.

She was halfway through the stats assignment when Ben finally spoke: “my grandpa died.”

Bea jumped, completely caught off guard, sending papers flying.

“Jesus, I thought you were asleep!” She said, grabbing the scattered papers and stuffing them back into her bag. She glanced uneasily over at Ben, who was staring straight up into the trees, eyes glazed over. “I’m sorry. That sucks.”

“I mean, it’s not like we didn’t know it was coming. He’s been sick for a while.” He sat up slowly, raking his hand through the grass. “Still hard, though.”

“Does this mean you want to talk about it?” Bea asked. He shrugged.

“I guess so.”

“Okay.” She didn’t know where to start, really. They hadn’t gone this long in each other’s presence without fighting in years - it was odd. “Were you close?”

She barely knew her own grandparents outside of stories she’d been told – she hadn’t seen her American ones in nearly a decade, and her father’s parents had both died when she was still a toddler.

“Not as much as we used to be. I saw him a lot less once we moved here,” He told her, “but he still wrote me a few times a year, and we talked on the phone once a month or so.”

“When’s the funeral? Are you going?”

“It’s later this week, and no, I’m not. That’s the part that has me the most upset, to be honest,” he said. “My mum and I were fighting about it. She says it’s too expensive for more than one ticket, and I’d wind up missing too much school.”

“That sucks,” Bea repeated, unsure of what else to say. Apparently, it was enough.

“It  _really_  sucks,” He said, “I really wanted to be there for the funeral. I mean, he’s my grandpa. I should be there. So I can say goodbye properly, you know?”

“Well, yeah, but you don’t need a funeral to say goodbye to him – you don’t need to go to a memorial service to prove that you care,” She said. “I don’t know if heaven or  _whatever_  kind of afterlife is your thing, but if it is, then he’s probably watching over you or something. Like in the Lion King.  _He lives in you_ , or whatever Rafiki says.”

“Are you seriously trying to comfort me with the Lion King right now?” He asked, laughing despite himself. Bea couldn’t help it – she started laughing, too. It sounded ridiculous when he said it that way.

“I told you I’m not very good at comforting people.”

“I can’t believe you’re trying to heal my emotional devastation with a Disney movie.”

“It’s kind of working, though, right?” She elbowed him lightly, “You’re laughing. That’s a big improvement.”

“True,” He agreed. “Hey, don’t tell anyone I cried in front of you, okay? I don’t think I can take that level of humiliation.”

“As long as you don’t tell anyone I hung around to make sure you were okay,” She vowed. “I can’t have them thinking I’ve gone soft.” He held out his hand, and she shook it.

“Deal.”


	47. Matchmaker Meg!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for thelittlenerd, who requested Pedro and Meg hanging out.

After the vigil, when Claud left with Hero and everyone started to pack up and go, Meg cornered Pedro in the parking lot.

“Hey,” She said, “you’re giving me a ride home.”

“I thought you came with Bea and Ben,” he said, glancing around – but they were already gone.

“I did,” She confirmed, “but I told them I’m leaving with you. We need to talk.”

She started walking towards his car, and he really had no choice but to follow her.

“Listen, Meg,” he started, clearly nervous, “if this is about Robbie and what we all thought we saw – we never meant to drag you into this. It was never about you.”

“I am _so ready_ to be done with all of this,” Meg groaned. “But fine – if you want to talk about it, fine. Let’s talk about it. You say it wasn’t about me, but the fact is, you thought Robbie was cheating on me and you said nothing to me about it at all. I wish you would’ve told me. I know you were looking out for Claudio, but in the process, you really hurt me and Hero – we’re supposed to be your friends, too. Not to mention if you’d just talked to even _one_ of us, it would’ve saved us a world of trouble.”

“You’re right,” He said, unlocking his car, “I’m sorry.”

“I know you are,” She replied, “and that’s not even what I wanted to talk to you about, by the way.”

“It’s not?” Pedro balked. “Then why –”

“What’s going on with you and Balthazar?” She demanded. “Something clearly happened there.”

“What?” Pedro turned red, all the way up to the tips of his ears. “What are you talking about?”

“Okay,” Meg rolled her eyes, “so we’re just ignoring that you started blushing every time he came near you after he wrote that song? We’re just not acknowledging that ever since Hero’s party, he’s been distant around you? Because from where I’m standing, it’s looking like there’s something going on.” Pedro tensed up, gripping the steering wheel.

“I’m not gay, if that’s what you’re implying.” He said. Meg lifted her brow and smirked. “I’m bi. Just for the record.”

“Okay,” she shrugged, “and _just for the record_ , I wasn’t implying that you were or were not anything other than someone who has feelings for Balthazar.”

“Even if I did have feelings for him – and I’m not saying I do –” He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it out of his face, “–I’m pretty sure I fucked everything up between us, anyways. He hasn’t even looked me in the face since Hero’s party – and you heard what he said today, about men being deceivers. I don’t think that was just a message for Hero.”

“For someone who helped create Team Love Gods, you’re sort of hopeless at this whole thing, aren’t you?” Meg laughed, grinning at him from the passenger seat, feet propped up on the dash. “Did you fuck it up? Yeah. Can’t argue that one. But you didn’t fuck it up, like, irreparably.”

“How do you know?” He asked, glancing over at her skeptically.

“Because when he looks at you, it’s like he’s begging you to give him a reason to forgive you,” She said, rolling her eyes again. “Honestly, Pedro. Learn how to read people.”

“You really think there’s a chance?”

“Definitely,” she said. “You just have to keep trying to be better, you know? He’s already rooting for you – the hard part is over. You just have to prove him right.”

“Thanks, Meg. That’s – that’s really helpful, actually.” He pulled into her driveway. She reached over and tousled his hair.

“God, you are so lucky to have me,” she said.

“Could you do me a favor and not tell the others about the whole Balthazar thing just yet?”

“Obviously,” She said, hopping out of the car. She leaned back in through the window and mimed zipping her lips. “But when you _do_ start telling people, I’m absolutely going to take all the credit for helping you see sense.”


	48. Secret Admirer!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for flightofthelbd, who requested "someone wrote I’m cute in the bathroom stall and your notes match the handwriting" AU for Pedrazar

It’s his initials that catch his eye, scrawled just above one of the sinks, next to a mirror: _sbj is cute_. He’s not completely sure it’s about him – although his initials aren’t exactly common, they aren’t widely known, either. He’s gone by Balthazar for so long that most people just assume it’s his first name. Still, he takes his phone out and snaps a picture, just for laughs.

He doesn’t think about it again until a few months later, when he’s borrowing Pedro’s history notes, and he notices how familiar the handwriting seems. It doesn’t connect right away – it makes sense that Pedro’s handwriting would be familiar to him – but then again, it’s not like they’d passed notes in class or written letters or anything. They communicated either in person or via text. Then he remembers the scrawled message on the bathroom wall, and he takes out his phone to consult the writing, and boom: it’s a match.

He can’t stop smiling for the rest of the day, after that – he wants to stop every person he passes, tell all of them _“Pedro Donaldson thinks I’m cute”_ – but he doesn’t. Not even Ursula, who’s become his number one confidant about exactly this subject, and the crush he’s harbored since year nine. He doesn’t want to tell anybody – he doesn’t want the bubble to burst, to let reality in. _If Pedro really wanted me to know, he would tell me,_ he thinks. _Maybe he’s afraid I don’t feel the same._

When he gets home that day, he writes _An Ode_. He pours himself into his music, writing lyrics as they come to him in the margins of his stats homework, plugging away at his keyboard, trying to make the notes sound right. He thinks about how someday, he’ll tell Pedro about finding the writing on the bathroom wall – he’ll show him the picture he took of it. He’ll tell Ursula – he’ll tell everyone. Someday.

For now, this is just his.


	49. Overheard Conversations!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for anon, who requested a beadick fic featuring the line "because (s)he's the love of my life!"

Ben was heading back up to Hero’s room with a tray of tea and crackers when he overheard them talking.

“–noticed that he’s been coming over a lot,” Hero was saying, sounding innocent as could be. Ben immediately pressed himself flush against the wall, leaning in as close to the door as he dared, straining to listen.

“Yeah,” Bea replied, entirely non-committal. He could picture her shrugging, trying to act casual. “It’s good to know not every guy we know is a total misogynistic prick.”

“And you two have been spending a lot of time together,” Hero went on. “Any time you’re not with me, you’re off with him.”

“Are you trying to hint that I should spend more time with you?” Bea asked. “Because I can. We can kick Ben to the curb right now.”

“You already spend more than enough time worrying over me,” Hero insisted, “I just think it’s interesting, you know. Two weeks ago you swore up and down that you hated him, but now… Don’t give me that look!”

The two of them started laughing at something – probably the face Bea was making – and Ben smiled. It was good to hear them laugh. It felt like they hadn’t laughed in _forever_.

“He’s not so bad, I guess,” Bea said, when their giggles subsided.

Ben made an indignant face, and when he heard Hero scoff, he felt a rush of solidarity with her.

“Beatrice, you’re seriously going to tell me that after everything, you only have lukewarm feelings for Ben?” She pressed. Ben nodded along with her in the hallway. “Your feelings for Ben have _always_ been strong, good or bad. I have never seen you so passionate as when you’re talking about him.”

Beatrice mumbled something he couldn’t quite hear.

“You can say it,” Hero encouraged, “it’s just me.”

“Fine!” Bea practically exploded, “He’s the stupid love of my of my stupid life, okay?”

“HA!” Ben cried triumphantly, pumping his fist in the air. The tray dropped to the ground in his excitement, crashing to the floor. Bea and Hero immediately ran out into the hallway – Hero looking amused, Beatrice positively fuming. Ben was too smug to care. “You don’t look very happy to see the love of your life.”

“I’ll get the broom,” Hero laughed, side-stepping the broken glass on the floor. She winced as a small river of tea edged closer to the stairs, threatening to cascade down. “And maybe a mop, too.”

“It’s rude to eavesdrop, dickface,” Beatrice snarled, arms crossed and glaring. “I was having a private conversation with my cousin. About subjects entirely unrelated to you.”

“Oh yeah? Who were you saying is the love of your life, then? Because I’m pretty sure you said my name, like, a million times,” He gloated, smile stretched from ear to ear.

“I was talking about _Benedict Cumberbatch_ , obviously,” Bea huffed.

“ _GirlwholovesBensayswhat?_ ”

“What?” She frowned.

“Ha!” He cried, “So you admit it!”

“I admit nothing!” She shouted, turning on her heel and storming back into Hero’s room, “I don’t like you!”

“Exactly, you don’t just _like_ me,” He trailed behind her, “you loooooooove me. You’re completely nuts about me. I’m the stupid love of your stupid life!”

“Yeah, emphasis on _stupid_.”

“Sticks and stones, Beatrice. Sticks. And. Stones.”

“I can’t believe this,” She sighed, “I’m in love with a total loser.”

“If it helps,” He grinned and took her hand, “you’re the stupid love of my stupid life, too.”


	50. Haunted House!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for sincerelybeaduke, who requested a "you work at a haunted house and i accidentally punched you because you scared me" au :)

“Again, I am really,  _really_ sorry, uh -” Ben faltered, wincing as he passed her a bag of frozen peas, “- uh, what’s your name again?”

“Bea.” She grumbled, pressing the bag to her rapidly blackening eye. 

“Hi, Bea. I’m Ben.” He reached out to shake her hand, but she just glared with her good eye. “I’m really sorry about punching you in the face.”

“I have never in my life heard someone scream like that. Why the fuck would you come to haunted house if you’re such a chicken about it?”

“My friends were making fun of me for not wanting to go in, so you know, obviously I had to. The ego is very fragile thing. Also, you are especially terrifying.”

“Mummies aren’t even scary! My costume is mainly toilet paper!”

"Mummies are extremely scary and if you think they aren’t, you aren’t watching the right horror movies,” He insisted, shuddering. “I’ve studied mummies before, actually. Here’s the thing about them -“

“Oh my God,” She groaned, “if you don’t shut up,  _I’m_ going to punch  _you_. And it won’t be an accident.” 

“Some people just aren’t interested in learning,” he huffed.


	51. Airports!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for anon, who requested "We're both stuck in this airport because of a storm and I'm afraid of thunder AU" for pedrazar

“You okay, bro?”

Balthazar glanced up from where he sat, huddled up on the floor as far from the enormous windows as he could possibly get, hugging his bag to his chest. 

“Uh, yeah,” He told the guy standing above him, “I’m okay. Just - not a big fan of thunderstorms.”

“Me either,” said the guy, “mind if I sit with you?”

He dropped down next to him before he could reply. 

“I’m Pedro, by the way. Where are you headed?”

“Balthazar,” He replied, “and I’m headed to Wellington. Or I was. They’re talking about postponing all flights until tomorrow.”

“That’s where I’m headed, too.” Pedro grinned, and Balthazar started to smile back - and then there was an enormous boom of thunder, a streak of lightning out the window, and the lights flickered. Balthazar jumped a little, shrinking back into his coat. He was suddenly acutely aware of Pedro watching him, and his cheeks reddened, embarrassed. 

“Sorry,” he said, “it’s just - they freak me out. Always have, ever since I was a kid.”

“You seem like you need a drink.” Pedro stood and held his hand out, grinning. Balthazar allowed himself to be tugged upwards. “Come on. I’m buying.”

He didn’t let go of his hand, even when he was standing. Balthazar didn’t try to stop him.


	52. Drunk Dial!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for thats-so-jokes, who prompted "accidentally called your number while drunk asking for a ride and you actually came"!

“Somebody better be dead,” Beatrice yawned into the phone, “because there is literally no other reason for anyone -  _especially you_ \- to call me at three in the morning.”

“Who’s this?” Ben slurred, “This doesn’t  _sound_  like Balthazar…”

“That’s because it’s  _Beatrice_ _._ Are you seriously drunk dialing me right now?”

“I will tell you a secret, squash blossom,” He stage-whispered, “I… am not entirely sober!”

“Squash Blossom?” Bea repeated, gagging, “Who were you even drinking with? Where even are you?”

“My blood brothers. My chosen family. My two bestest buddies. My - ”

“ _Ben_.”

“Claud and Pedro, of course!” He shouted, and Beatrice had to pull the phone away from her ear. “We were supposed to help get stuff set up for his costume party, but then we started drinking and talking and drinking and now I am, as they say,  _drunk._ I was trying to call Balthazar to give me a ride home.”

“Why can’t you just sleep at Pedro’s?”

“Because I’m not  _at_ Pedro’s,” Ben said impatiently, “I  _left_ Pedro’s because he and Claud fell asleep, which was intensely boring, so I decided to walk home, but I got distracted and then I got lost. So I’m going to hang up and call Balthazar now. Oooh, a swing set!”

“Stay put,” Beatrice snapped, already reaching for her flannel, “there’s no point in waking Balth up too, and I think I know where you are, so just  _do not move a muscle._ ”

She arrived at the playground ten minutes later, and found Ben sitting on the swings. 

“I may have moved a muscle or two,” He admitted, “but it’s not my fault. You took forever to get here.”

“Come on, drunkface,” She said, “get in the car so I can get you home and get back into bed.”

“Why would you get into my bed?” 

“Into  _my_ bed,” She corrected, tapping her foot impatiently, “let’s  _go_.”

“I’m getting into your bed?” 

“No,” She snapped, “ _you_ are going home. Come on, your highness, your chariot awaits.”

“I think I’m dreaming,” He said, trailing behind her as she led him towards the car, “if this was real, you would’ve let me sleep in the park.”

“Don’t think I wasn’t tempted,” She rolled her eyes, shoving him into the car. “I may not be able to stand you, but I definitely don’t want to deal with having your death on my conscience.” 

“Why, Beatrice,” he fake-swooned, “I didn’t know you cared!”

“Ha,” she huffed, “I wouldn’t go that far, dickface.”


	53. Lost and Found!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for pineapplebutt506, who requested "i work at the lost and found and does this thing seriously belong to you au" featuring some item to do with pineapples.

“Hi there,” Ben drummed his fingers on the counter, the girl on the opposite side of it glancing up from her phone, “I lost something and, since you are the lost and found, figured this might be the best place to check for it.”

“Okay,” The girl (whose name tag read ‘Bea’), dragged a large box over, and peered inside. “What was the item?”

“Can’t I just have a look in the box and see if it’s there myself?” He asked, leaning over the counter.

“Um, no,” The girl - Bea - frowned, stepping in front of the box to shield the contents from him, “That just makes me think you’re a thief. Just tell me what you lost and I’ll tell you if we have it.”

“Fine,” He sighed, “it’s a hat.”

“You’re kidding, right? There are like, thirty hats in here. You’re gonna have to give me a little more to go off of.”

“It’s a very  _distinctive_  hat,” He went on.

“Again, there are like,  _thirty_ hats in here. There is more than just one ‘distinctive’ hat.”

“I can practically guarantee you that mine is the most distinctive one of the bunch,” he assured her, “it’s a pineapple hat.”

“Like it has pineapples on it, or -“ She stopped mid-sentence and clapped her hand to her mouth to keep from laughing. “Oh my God. Is  _this_  your hat?”

She withdrew the most ridiculous headgear she’d ever seen - it looked like someone had cut the top part of a pineapple off, green leaves shooting out from the top. Ben reached for the hat and she yanked it away, doubled over laughing. 

“Why would anyone own a hat like this? This is - this is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen, truly.” She held it away from him, still laughing, despite his stern expression. “Okay. I will give you this hat back if you put it on for me. And let me take a picture. I need to text it to my cousin. And my friends. And everyone I know, basically.”

“You’re just jealous,” He accused, and that set her off laughing again.

“Jealous of  _this?_ Oh, please! But fine - if you’re not going to wear it, I’ll just do the world a favor and throw it away,” She threatened, holding it over the waste basket. 

“Fine,” He said, “I’ll put it on. Hand it over.” She tossed it to him and he caught it, affixing it atop his head. He grabbed the straps that hung from either side and clipped it under his chin.

“Oh my God,” she wheezed, laughing even harder than before, “I didn’t see the straps! That makes it so much better!”

“It’s a  _bicycle helmet,_ I’ll have you know,” He informed her, “it’s a basic safety regulation.”

“Smile,” she said, and she snapped a picture before he could react. “Oh man. I can’t believe I didn’t want to come in to work today. To think I could’ve missed this. Comedy gold.”

“Ha-ha,” He said dryly, “so glad I could make your day better.”

“You’re the new wallpaper on my phone,” she said, “I am literally incapable of ever being sad again. All I have to do is look at this picture.”

“You know,” Ben said, leaning on the counter, “if seeing me makes you that happy, maybe you should give me your number.”

“Nice try, Pineapple guy,” She pulled the hat down so it covered his eyes, “But I don’t date dudes who look like a fruit basket threw up on them.”

“Well, it was worth a shot,” he sighed.


	54. Ooooklahoma!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for novel-life-of-a-dollar, who requested ben and bea in a production of "oklahoma" in which bea has to suffer through ben's accent.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me dickface was auditioning, too,” Bea grumbled, glaring at backstage left, where he sat with the rest of the cast.

“Because I knew you would never audition with me if I told you,” Hero replied, flipping through the sheet music for  _People Will Say We’re In Love_. “It’s not so bad, you don’t have  _that_ many scenes together.”

“Exactly - it means we’re backstage together literally all the time, which is worse,” She complained, tugging off her gray Aunt Eller wig and shaking out her hair. “Have you heard his accent, by the way? It’s awful. Truly shameful.”

“It’s not  _so_  bad -” Hero tried to defend, but she was interrupted by Ben’s booming voice across the stage: 

“Oh my Stars and Garters!” He shouted, making everyone around him laugh, “I do declare! Bless your heart!”

“I can’t take it anymore.” Bea jumped out of her seat and stormed over to where Ben was. “Hey, Dickface. Your accent? It  _sucks_.”

“Ah, Beatrice! Did you come over here for some pointers? Because between you and me, your southern accent could use some work.” He puffed out his chest, preening for the sake of their friends, “I can help you channel your inner  _Blanche DuBois_.”

“That play isn’t even set in Oklahoma! It’s set in New Orleans! And Blanche is literally from Mississippi. If I gave you a blank map right now, I bet you couldn’t even point out where Oklahoma  _is._ ” 

“Oh, really? Well, who died and made  _you_  Queen of Accents?” Ben demanded, crossing his arms.

“Um,  _my mum is American_ ,” She said, “I’ve  _literally_  been there. We have literally driven through Oklahoma before, and I can tell you with one-hundred-percent certainty that  _your accent sucks._ So yes, thank you, I am Queen of the Accents.”

"How  _dare_  you,” He said, using his thick southern accent, “Why, I have never been so insulted in all my days!”

“Oh my God,” she let her head drop into her hands, “I can’t believe this is happening.” She turned to go, but Ben just followed her.

“Don’t you walk away from me, Beatrice Duke! Don’t you know it’s rude to disrespect your elders?  _Especially_ high society southern ladies such as myself!”

“Oh, so you’re a high society southern lady now?”

“I am whatever I want to be!” He called after her, as she stormed into the girls dressing room and slammed the door behind her, “That’s the magic of theatre, darlin’!”


	55. We Meet Again!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for sonseulsoleil, who requested "we both didn't want to be at this party but guess where we both are AU" for Ben and Bea.

She sat on the back porch, a mostly untouched beer beside her, chin resting in one hand and scrolling through youtube on her phone with the other. The music from the party was loud enough that she could still hear it outside, along with indistinct shouting and general merriment from the guests inside. It wasn’t that she particularly hated parties, but she really didn’t know that many people at this one - she’d only come because Hero wanted to, because that Claudio guy she liked was going to be there, and she couldn’t resist Hero when she got all pouty.

The door opened and the lights and sounds from the party spilled out onto the porch, illuminating Bea in the night. She could see the silhouette of someone coming out onto the porch, but couldn’t make out any details.

“I’ll be right back, I just need some air!” They called back into the party, and Bea froze. She recognized his voice immediately. She tried to scramble off the porch and run or hide or maybe jump off the nearest cliff - any of that was a better option than sticking around - but she wasn’t quick enough. “No way! _Beatrice?_ ”

“Unfortunately so,” She sighed, sitting back down. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“Nobody warned me about you, either,” He said, sitting on the steps next to her, “and I didn’t see your broomstick parked out front.”

“Are you trying to insinuate that I’m a witch?” She narrowed her eyes at him, “Because jokes on you, buddy - that would be amazing. I would’ve gone to Hogwarts, and I could hex you half to hell, so it would be a win all around.”

“Going to Hogwarts would be cool,” He agreed, sighing wistfully. “So why are you out here all alone? Couldn’t find anyone to torment inside?”

“For your information, I don’t particularly want to be here. I came for Hero. And I’ll leave the tormenting to you, thanks. You’re doing a bang-up job tormenting me already.”

“I live to serve,” He grinned. “Truth be told, I didn’t really want to come tonight, either. Claudio wanted me to be his wingman for some girl he has the hots for. I find her a little short, myself, not to mention -”

“That girl he ‘has the hots for’ is my  _cousin_ ,” Bea warned, “so you may want to reconsider whatever you were going to say next.”

“There’s  _two_ of you? Heaven help us all.”

“I’m going inside,” Bea rolled her eyes and went to stand up, but Ben caught her by the wrist and gently tugged her back down.

“No, stay,” he said, “There is seriously nobody else worth talking to at this party, especially since Claudio is all wrapped up in your cousin. I promise, I’m done being a dick. For tonight, anyway.”

“Fine,” she sighed. She pulled out her phone and earbuds, plugging them in and offering him one. “I was watching interviews with the Game of Thrones cast before you came out here. You in?”

"Um,  _hell yeah_ ,” He said, taking the offered ear bud. He scooted closer to her, and she leaned towards him so they could share the screen - and when his knee brushed against hers, neither of them pulled away.


	56. Birthday Mishaps!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For flamingmangoes, who requested Beatrice getting Ben a cake that says "happy birthday dickface hah don't write that his name is ben".

“Beatrice, dear, hi. It’s Ben’s mother. You’re coming to Ben’s birthday party this afternoon, right? Can you do me a big favor?” 

"Of course," Bea balanced the phone between her shoulder and ear, using both hands to try and wrap her gift for him, "what’s up?"

"I still haven’t put in an order for his cake and I won’t get a chance to run out to the store today because we’ve got family coming in who will need to be picked up at the airport. Could you go to the supermarket and pick up a cake for him? You know the kinds he likes, so whatever looks best. Just your basic birthday message written on the cake. I’ll pay you back, of course."

"I can do that, no problem," Bea assured her, frowning down at the poorly wrapped gift before ripping the paper off and starting over, "don’t worry about paying me back, I’m happy to do it."

“You’re a lifesaver. See you at the party!” 

-

"What do you want the cake to say?” Asked the bored looking girl behind the counter. “Happy Birthday who?”

“Dickface,” she laughed, glancing down at a text she’d just gotten from Ben. ( _royal birthday decree: no guests will be allowed into the house unless they can flawlessly execute a bird call of some kind._ ) She rolled her eyes and looked back up at the girl behind the counter, who did not seem amused. “Hah, don’t write that. His name is Ben.”

The girl took the cake into the back for a moment to write out the message and package it up.

“Do you want to check it or anything?” The girl asked, taking the money from Bea, who glanced at her watch and shook her head.

“I’m gonna be late,” She said, “I’m sure it’s fine.”

-

A good portion of Ben’s extended family was there, since his birthday fell so class to graduation. Cousins, aunts, and a particularly stoic looking uncle - a whole slew of Hobbes, all of whom Beatrice had just met for the first time. 

"Beatrice, let’s get that cake out,” His mom said, and Bea set it on the center of the table, lifting the lid. 

Her eyes widened in horror when she saw the message scrawled across the top of the cake, and she shut the box almost immediately, turning to face the rest of the party.

“Uh,” she said, “you know what? Wrong cake. Must’ve been a mix up. I should just go back and set this whole thing straight. I’ll just be going -“

“Wrong cake?” Ben asked, leaning around her, “Is it a better one? If it’s a better one, let’s just keep it.” He opened the top of the box and then - much like Bea - immediately closed it again. Unlike Beatrice, however, who was throwing him panicked, pleading looks, Ben had to bury his face in his hands to try and stifle his laughter.

The thing was, when Ben really got laughing, it was  _impossible_  to stifle him.

“ _What_ is so funny?” His mother demanded, opening the cake box for herself. There, written neatly in cursive across the cake, read the message: HAPPY BIRTHDAY DICKFACE! HAH DON’T WRITE THAT HIS NAME IS BEN. 

“What’s it say?” Asked one of the cousins, who pulled the box over so the rest of the family could read it. Soon, all of Ben’s relatives were laughing, whipping their phones out to snap pictures. Even Ben’s mother, who had looked horrified a moment ago, had started to giggle. 

“This isn’t funny,” Beatrice hissed at Ben, who was leaning against her shoulder to keep upright, still in hysterics, “ _this is mortifying_.” 

“It’s hysterical,” He assured her, “best cake I’ve ever had. Look, even my Uncle is laughing. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him laugh before.”

“Quite a girlfriend you’ve got there, Ben,” one of his cousins laughed and clapped Beatrice on the back.

“I am  _so sorry,_ ” Bea said, flushed with embarrassment. 

“Don’t be,” Ben grinned, “just wait until you see what I have them write on  _your_  cake.”


	57. Flower Shop!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For anon, who requested a flower shop Pedrazar AU.

Spending the summer working in his Aunt and Uncle’s flower shop wasn’t exactly Pedro’s idea of a good time, but his parents were breathing down his neck to get a summer job and his mom said the flower shop could use the help, and Pedro was pretty much a people-pleaser to a fault, so he said yes. It wasn’t so bad – his aunt and uncle were in charge of making most of the flower arrangements, so it wasn’t like he had to do any of the hard stuff. All he had to do was handle the register, make deliveries once in a while, and make small talk with the customers.

Ukulele Guy first showed up his second week there, and he was smitten pretty immediately. Musicians were a weak spot for him – always had been. (Pedro wasn’t out of the metaphorical closet to anyone, really, but he wasn’t necessarily _in_ the metaphorical closet, either. He didn’t openly talk about being bi, but it wasn’t some big secret. It’s kind of amazing, he thinks, the things people choose to gloss over if it’s not spelled out for them.)

“Hey,” Cute Ukulele Guy said, “I called about a bouquet of daisies this morning? I think that might be it, actually.”

He pointed behind Pedro, where a bouquet of daisies and black-eyed susans sat in a vase, a purple ribbon wrapped around it. He glanced at the small card dangling off the ribbon.

“’To Rosa, with love’, right?” He read, and Cute Ukulele Guy nodded.

“That’s the one,” He confirmed, digging through his wallet. He paid in cash, and Pedro made change while silently cursing him for not paying with a card so he could stealthily learn his name. He took the bouquet and nodded at Pedro. “Have a good day, see you around.”

“See you,” Pedro gave him a half-hearted wave, and when Cute Ukulele Guy walked out of the shop, Pedro naturally assumed he was walking out of his life, too. _Ah well,_ he thought, _such is life_.

-

A week later, Cute Ukulele Guy was back. It was a slow day, so Pedro had been sitting with his feet propped up on the counter when he walked in, and it startled him so much that he almost fell over scrambling to get up.

“Hey,” He greeted, running a hand through his hair and trying to regain his composure, “what’s up?”

“Hey,” Cute Ukulele Guy drummed his fingers on the counter, grinning up at Pedro, “I was just in the neighborhood and figured I’d pick up some flowers.”

“For Rosa?” Pedro asked, and Cute Ukulele Guy shrugged.

“Yeah,” he said, after a pause, “for Rosa.”

“Anything in mind?” Pedro asked, glancing at the display case behind him, “this is pretty much what we have on hand, but my Aunt is in the back, so if you need something else she can probably make that happen.”

“I’m not sure,” Cute Ukulele Guy eyed the case, “what looks good to you? I don’t know a whole lot about flowers.”

“Me either, to be honest,” Pedro chuckled, “I just hand them out and take the payment. You could go the classic route – roses?”

“Nah, I don’t think so,” Cute Ukulele Guy shook his head, “that’s a little overdone – roses for Rosa. She gets that a lot. Maybe the tulips, though?”

“You got it.” Pedro tried to wrap them up nicely, the way his uncle showed him, but it still came out looking a little sloppy. “Sorry – I can get someone else to wrap it, if you want.”

“No, this is fine,” Cute Ukulele Guy passed him a wad of cash, taking the bouquet, “this is perfect. Thanks.”

Pedro didn’t realize until after he left that he forgot to ask him his name.

-

Three days later, Cute Ukulele Guy was back, but this time with a guitar slung over his shoulder. He was standing on the street talking to someone, and Pedro watched him while mulling over changing his nickname to Cute Musician Guy, or just shortening the whole thing altogether and just calling him Cute Guy. He waved goodbye to the person outside, and came into the shop, bell above the door ringing as he entered.

“Hey again,” Pedro greeted, grinning, “flower emergency?”

“Something like that,” Cute Guy laughed, “just figured I’d look around, you know? Since I’m in the neighborhood.”

“Right,” Pedro nodded, “lucky Rosa.”

“Right,” Cute Guy said, smiling and looking away.

“So you’re a musician?” Pedro asked, jerking his head at the guitar. Cute Guy reached over his shoulder and touched the neck of the guitar case, nodding.

“Yeah,” he said, “it’s kind of just a hobby, right now, but I play at a lot of open mic nights and stuff. I’d love to open up my own studio someday, but that’s pretty far down the line.”

“It’s really cool that you know exactly what you want to do, though,” Pedro said, “I don’t have any idea, really.”

“There’s a kind of freedom in that too, though,” Cute Guy said, and he came over to the counter and started writing something on the back of one of his Uncle’s business cards. “I have a youtube channel, if you’re interested in listening.”

“I am. Thanks.” He took the card and stuck it in his back pocket. “What kind of music? Love songs, to woo the girls who I’m sure are all over you?”

“Something like that,” Cute Guy laughed, “the love songs aren’t for the girls, necessarily.” Pedro raised a brow at that.

“Huh,” he said. Cute Guy grabbed a bundle of three sunflowers, tied together with an orange ribbon.

“I’ll just take these,” He said, handing Pedro his card. He glanced down at it before swiping it through the machine.

“Stanley Jones,” He read aloud, and smiled at him, “Nice to formally meet you.”

“I go by Balthazar, actually,” He corrected sheepishly, “It’s my middle name. It’s more distinctive, you know? People are way more likely to remember that the guy playing at the coffee house is called Balthazar.”

“Balthazar,” Pedro repeated, nodding, “Balthazar. Well, hey. My name’s Pedro.”

“Well, thanks for flowers, Pedro,” he said, and headed for the door, “see you around.”

-

He watched all the videos on youtube. He found a link to his bandcamp page and downloaded the songs onto his phone, so he could listen on the go. When his songs started playing for the third time in a row, John came stomping into his room with a pair of headphones.

“Either listen to something else or put these on,” he said, “you’re killing me here.”

He was playing them at work the next day when Balthazar walked in. He lunged for the phone to shut it off, ashamed at having been caught in the act, but Balthazar just laughed good-naturedly.

“Glad you like it,” He said. Pedro offered him a sheepish grin, turning it down.

“It’s great stuff, man, really,” he said. “So what’s up? More flowers for Rosa?”

“Actually, I’ve kind of bled myself dry on all these flowers,” Balthazar admitted, “I thought I would just come in and say hey.”

“Oh,” Pedro said, surprised, “well – cool. Hey.”

Balthazar hung by the counter, waiting for a moment. Pedro didn’t know what else to say, so he didn’t say anything at all – and neither did Balthazar. He waited just a beat longer, then pushed away from the counter, shaking his head at something.

“Alright then,” he said, “I’m gonna take off, then. See you later?”

“Sure,” Pedro nodded, “yeah, I’ll see you later, man. Take care.”

Balthazar got as far as the door before he stopped, hand on the handle, and turned back around to face Pedro again.

“I feel like I owe you an apology or something,” he said, “because I think – I guess I misread you. The reason I keep coming around here is because I think you’re cute and I like you, and I got the sense that the feeling was mutual, but I guess it’s not. So… sorry if I made you uncomfortable at all. I’m gonna take the hint and get out of your hair.”

“Wait,” Pedro’s brow creased, the confusion evident on his face, “wait, no. You didn’t misread me at all, but I thought – what about Rosa?”

“Rosa?” Balthazar frowned. “What does my sister have to do with this?”

“Rosa’s your _sister?_ ” Pedro asked, “Well, how was I supposed to know? You kept buying flowers for her – flowers are romantic –”

“I only got her flowers once, actually,” Balthazar corrected, “the first time I came in here. They were for her birthday. You just kind of assumed the flowers were for her all those other times, and I didn’t correct you.”

“Well why not?” Pedro demanded.

“Because I didn’t want you to think I was stalking you!” Balthazar replied, “and I needed an excuse to come in here all the time!”

“Oh, man,” Pedro shook his head, laughing under his breath, “God, this is so embarrassing. Look, for the record, I do really like you. I just didn’t say anything because I assumed you had a girlfriend.”

“You do?” Balthazar bit his lip, grinning shyly. “Well… alright then. That’s good to know.”

“So, now that we have that all cleared up… would you want to go out with me sometime?”

“I’m playing at the coffee house down the road tomorrow at six,” Balthazar said, “any chance you’re not working?”

“I get off at four,” Pedro said, “can I buy a coffee before your set?”

Balthazar grinned, drumming his fingers on the countertop.

“It’s a date.” 


	58. Spin the Bottle!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For fictionalbirds, who requested the gang playing spin the bottle.

This is the thing about spin the bottle: when half your friend group is coupled off, it kind of stops being fun.

“Do you think I don’t see you stopping the bottle?” Meg said, snatching it away from Bea, who had deliberately pointed it at Ben.

“It landed on  _Hero_ ,” Bea protested, “what do you want me to do with that?!”

“You’re not respecting the game,” Meg accused.

“If I wanted to kiss someone other than Ben, I wouldn’t be dating him,” She complained. “I didn’t even want to  _play_  this stupid game.”

“Fine,” Meg sighed, “if you’re just going to break the rules anyway, you are excused from the sacred spin the bottle circle.”

“That’s a relief,” Ben said, hopping up, “I was getting a little worried for a minute there – I’m such an amazing kisser, I’m afraid of what would happen if I landed on Balthazar. Would’ve snatched him away from Pedro like  _that_.” He snapped his fingers for emphasis.

“You think pretty highly of yourself, bro,” Pedro laughed, “I’d like to hear what Bea has to say about that.”

“Actually, I’m gonna let him have that one,” Bea said, high-fiving Ben, “he’s a good kisser. A-plus. Ten out of ten, would kiss again.”

“If they don’t have to play this game, does that mean we’re allowed to skip it, too?” Balthazar asked, he and Pedro already scooting out of the circle.

“If you guys quit too, that’s half the group,” Meg pouted, gesturing to the rest of the circle, which had boiled down to Ursula, Hero, and John (who kept glancing towards the door, as though trying to plan his escape). “What’s the point of even  _playing_ , at this point?”

“This seems like a good time to mention I have no interest in playing this game either,” Ursula said, “sorry, Meg. This just has way too much potential to make things weird.”

“Sorry, Meg,” Hero echoed, “but maybe this wasn’t one of your better party games. Why don’t we play a board game or something instead?”

“Oh, fine,” Meg sighed, tossing the bottle aside, “we don’t have to play Spin the Bottle.”

“Oh, thank God,” John mumbled under his breath.

“Let’s play Risk,” Bea suggested.

“You only want to play that so you can get back at me!” Ben accused.

“Um, yeah, exactly. You don’t just  _shatter_  an alliance after  _two and a half hours_ of playing the game!”

“Ugh,” Meg rolled her eyes, shaking her head at the group, “I have got to get some cooler friends.”


	59. Tradition!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for melissaalacy, who requested ben and bea arguing about kilts.

“Are you joking? You’re joking, right? This _has_ to be a joke.”

“I would never joke when it comes to kilts.”

“You’re seriously going to wear that to our graduation?”

“Kilts are a _time honored tradition_ among Scotsmen.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask this, but –” Bea held up her hand, bracing herself, “are you wearing underwear right now?”

Ben remained silent, and Bea’s eyes widened.

“ _Benedick Hobbes._ Are you wearing underwear right now, yes or no.”

“A true Scotsman goes without,” He informed her, and she positively lost it, laughing so hard she fell off of Ben’s bed, hitting the floor with a resounding thud.

“What if there’s a breeze?” She asked in between giggles, “What if you’re crossing the stage, ready to collect your diploma, and a great big gust of wind comes and just… blows it right up?!”

“That’s –” He faltered, “that’s an extremely unlikely circumstance.”

“Oh, man, I’ll have to tell Hero to keep the camera ready, just in case.” She wiped at her eyes, which had starting tearing up from all the laughter, and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. “One last question – are you going to play the bagpipes too? Should I be preparing myself for that, mentally?”

“You _know_ that my inability to play the bagpipes plagues my dreams!” He snapped. “And by the way, kilts are a symbol of _honor_ amongst the Scots _–_ ”  

“Go ahead and honor the Scots all you want,” She said, snapping a picture of him and texting it to the rest of their friends, “just do the world and favor and put on underwear before you leave the house, okay?”


	60. Debate Team!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for bittersweet-truths, who requested ben and bea on the debate team, arguing even though they are on the same side, and everyone around them getting sick of it.

“How can you possibly, even for one second, believe in the shit you are spouting right now? Honestly, tell me, because I am  _speechless_.”

“Speechless? You just went on for ten minutes, picking apart every single word I said, and you _still_  couldn’t manage to poke holes in my argument –  _that’s_  how solid it is.”

“You guys know you’re on the same side of the debate, right?” Ursula cut in, “because you’re both supposed to be  _pro_.”

“Ben and I have never been and never will be on the same side of a debate,” Bea insisted, crossing her arms, “our views don’t line up on anything.”

“Are you completely bonkers?” Ben argued, “Our political views are almost completely the same.”

“They are not,” She snapped, “and don’t even try to tell me that I’m wrong. I’m never wrong. I thought I was wrong once, but it turns out I was mistaken.”

“Do you even hear yourself?” Pedro asked, but Ben plowed right past him.

“You just want to try and prove me wrong so you can take over the closing argument and leave me with the stupid intro,” he accused, “well, I’m not letting that happen. I was assigned the closing statement and you’ll have pry it away from my cold, dead hands.”

“If that’s what it takes,” She shrugged. “I will get the last word, even if it’s the last thing I do.”

“Should we just go?” Pedro glanced at Ursula, who was observing Bea and Ben with sheer apathy. She nodded.

“It’s probably for the best.” She grabbed her backpack and waved to the arguing pair. “I’ll call you tonight to go over notes, Bea.”

“Let me see your outline.” Bea snatched the paper from Ben, grabbing her pen and immediately crossing out huge sections and adding comments. “Did you even research the topic? Who’s your source, Yahoo Answers?”

“See you at practice tomorrow, Ben,” Pedro said, he and Ursula heading for the door. Ben didn’t even react – he grabbed his paper back from Bea, glancing over her edits.

“My sources are completely legitimate, thanks,” He said, “who’s  _your_  source,  _Wikipedia_?”

“Told you it was a mistake to try and put them on the same side of a debate,” Pedro sighed. Ursula rolled her eyes, letting the classroom door shut behind her.

“Maybe,” she shrugged, “but at least this way their arguing about something productive.”


	61. Secret Admirer FOLLOW-UP!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for flightofthelbd, who requested a followup to the secret admirer drabble (chapter 48!).

When Pedro posts ‘An Ode’ with that caption –  _you always know how to make me laugh –_ it’s hard not to be crushed. Ursula tells him not to overthink it, but he can’t help it. He starts second guessing all of it – what if he wasn’t the one who wrote that on the bathroom wall? Or worse, what if he was, but it was a joke? What’s worse is that Pedro pulls away after the video goes up, and Balthazar goes from hanging out with him outside of class a few times a week to simply nodding at each other in the hallways and having short conversations at lunch. There’s nothing hostile or unkind in how Pedro’s suddenly acting – there’s just distance.

“I shouldn’t have played that song for him,” He tells Ursula. “Obviously it scared him off.”

“You need to stop obsessing over this,” She tells him, “you should do something to take your mind off of it.”

So he stops watching Ben’s videos and busies himself with other things – Hero asks him if he can do musical accompaniment to a room tour vlog she and Bea are making, and he spends the whole afternoon at the Duke’s house hanging out with the pair of them. He and Beatrice have a surprisingly lengthy discussion about representation in the media, and Hero fills him with tea and sweets and compliments about his music. It’s actually a really fun afternoon, and he wonders why he hasn’t spent more time hanging out with them before. He doesn’t think about Pedro until he’s halfway home, which is probably the longest he’s gone without thinking about him since  _An Ode_ was posted.

He goes to Ursula’s a lot after school, and a few times those year nine friends of hers are there, so he and Verges entertain Dogberry and Ursula with an impromptu jam session on the ukulele and kazoo.

He notices Pedro is spending more time with John, which is probably a good thing – it wasn’t a secret that the two of them had a relationship that was strained at best. It still sucks, that their friendship has become so distant, and it makes him wish he could take  _An Ode_ back, but if Pedro spending less time with Balthazar means he’s spending more time with John – well, that’s okay, then.

But then Hero’s birthday comes, and the fallout occurs, and Balthazar goes back and watches all the videos he hasn’t been keeping up with and learns what ‘spending time with John’ actually entailed. He wishes he could get  _angry_  about it, because honestly, there are so many things wrong with the way they all handled the situation – but instead, he’s just really, really… disappointed.

He goes to the park with the others, filming messages for Hero, and when he says  _men have always been deceivers,_ he can feel Pedro’s eyes on him and it takes every ounce of his willpower not to look at him.

“That’s not something the guy I wrote  _An Ode_ about would do,” He tells Ursula, who gives him a ride home afterwards. She just sighs and shakes her head at him.

“People aren’t one dimensional,” She says, “Nobody is completely good or completely bad. Not even all-round-great-guys.”

He can’t deny that she’s got a point there. It doesn’t make seeing him any easier, though.

He writes his song for Hero, works on a dozen drafts. It’s for her, but it’s cathartic for him, too. He’s not over Pedro – he’s liked him since year nine, at this point he’s not sure he’ll ever be over Pedro – at least not while they’re still going to the same school and seeing each other almost every day. But it helps. He keeps what Ursula said in mind, too – people make mistakes.

He sees Pedro sitting alone at lunch a few days after he posts the video, and he decides to sit next to him. At this point, Pedro would probably be welcomed back to their usual lunch table with little more than a few disgruntled looks from Beatrice, but he’s been keeping his distance, and Balthazar knows that John is still gone and that’s probably weighing heavily on Pedro’s mind, too. So he sits with him and Pedro looks over at him, surprise written all over his tired face.

“I thought you were mad at me,” he says.

“Yeah,” Balthazar admits, because what’s the use in lying? “But if Hero forgives you, so do I. Besides, you seem like you could use a friend.”

“Thanks, man,” He says, and he looks genuinely relieved, “I’m glad to have you back.”

“Really?” Balthazar asks, more disbelief than doubt, “Because it seemed like you kind of wanted to lose me, for a while there. After  _An Ode_ , you kind of –”

“Yeah, I know,” Pedro looks away, running a hand through his hair, “I just – things got a little –” he sighs. “–I didn’t know how to react, to be honest. So I just… didn’t.”

Balthazar lets that sink it.

“Can I show you something?” He asks, already reaching for his phone. Pedro nods, and he flips through the pictures, selecting the one with the writing on the bathroom wall before passing it over to him.  _sbj is cute._ It makes his heart race a little, just seeing the picture, which is a feeling he tries to shove aside. “That’s your handwriting, and those are my initials.”

Pedro doesn’t say anything at first – he stares at the picture until the screen goes dark.

“I wondered if you’d seen that,” he says quietly, when Balthazar takes the phone back. “You never said anything.”

“ _You_ never said anything,” Balthazar gently corrects, “I said a lot. I said a whole songs worth of things. Which I sang to you. Directly. You wrote something on a bathroom wall that I might never have seen. I just figured you’d come to me when you were ready.”

“So…  _An Ode_ wasn’t a joke, or anything like that?”

“No. And writing that on the bathroom wall – that wasn’t a joke, was it?”

“No,” Pedro shakes his head, “of course it wasn’t.”

“You think I’m cute?” He asks, because he wants to hear him say it.

“I think you’re amazing,” Pedro tells him, and Balthazar has to tear himself away from his gaze, because it’s suddenly all too much.

“Okay,” He says, trying to push aside any giddiness in favor of being reasonable, “we like each other, that much is clear. Where do we go from here?”

Pedro looks down and away.

“I don’t think it’s fair of me to ask you to wait,” he says, “but we still haven’t heard from John since he posted that video, and I don’t – I feel like I shouldn’t be focusing on anything but my brother right now. I like you so much, Balth – but I can’t be the kind of person you deserve right now. I’d like to try to be, once this is all sorted out. But if that’s asking too much of you, I understand.”

Balthazar presses his palm flat next to Pedro’s on the seat between them, and gently brushes Pedro’s pinky with his own. There’s a moment of hesitation on Pedro’s part, and then he takes Balth’s whole hand in his, lacing their fingers together.

“I get it,” Balthazar says, “it makes sense. You need to focus on family right now.”

“I’m sorry –”

“Don’t be,” He says, and he means it. He squeezes Pedro’s hand before letting go. “We can figure it out later. In the meantime, will you let me be there for you, just as a concerned friend?”

“Yeah,” Pedro smiles at him, “that sounds nice.”

-

They don’t talk about it right away, when John comes home. Balthazar lets the Donaldson’s have their space, to figure things out. Those aren’t the sort of wounds that heal overnight. But Pedro wasn’t pulling away, like he had before, after  _An Ode –_ he texts Balth daily, they spend more time together than they ever had before, and the future looks bright.

When he finds Pedro and Ben up in Hero’s room, Ben listing off people to set Pedro up with, Balthazar has to stop himself from saying something. He smiles and joins in on the game, instead, because he knows the truth. Then John arrives and practically barricades the door, and finally it becomes too much and Pedro asks him to step out into the hall.

Beatrice practically walks right into them and asks to speak to Pedro, and Balthazar is already preparing himself to be told  _be right back_ when Pedro shocks him by saying:

“Actually, I need to talk to Balthazar first. Can you give us a few minutes?”

“Oh,” Beatrice looks surprised, then seems to notice that they’re holding hands, and it dawns on her. “Yeah, sure. I’ll be downstairs – just come and find me whenever you’re done.”

She leaves, and they’re alone in the hallway, and Pedro suddenly looks very nervous.

“Are you okay?” Balthazar asks, and he nods.

“I think we’re finally at a good place, John and I,” He says, “things are finally starting to feel stable again. And you’ve been so great this whole time, and I really – I really appreciate you being there for me.  And if you’ll let me… I’m ready to be there for you. What do you say? Are you in?”

Instead of answering, Balthazar finally allows himself to do what he’s been thinking about since year nine – he kisses him.

“So,” Pedro smiles when they pull away, “is that a yes?”

“That’s a yes,” he says, “I’m all in.”


	62. Snapchat!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For jesuisdansserdaigle, who requested Ben snapchatting Bea to complain about Pedro and Balthazar snapchatting each other. (In a case of art imitating life, or life imitating art, I was snapchatting her while writing it.)

She opened her snapchat to a picture of Ben making a truly disgusted face, with the caption _‘couples are gross’_. She rolled her eyes and took a picture of herself smirking to send back to him, captioning it with  _‘WE’RE a couple, dickface’_.

She got a response a few minutes later. He’d doodled two flamingos on either side of him, their necks and beaks framing his face in a heart, and written  _‘yeah, a couple of DREAMBOATS’_ above it.

She laughed out loud, and just when she was composing a response, she got another snapchat – this time, a video. The camera was panning slowly from Pedro on one side of the room to Balthazar on the other, both looking at their phones and laughing, with Ben narrating:

_“Here we have the elusive Pedrazar in their natural habitat… snapchatting from ten feet away, subjecting me to a torture that seems to know no bounds.”_

She heard Pedro ask  _“are you seriously taking a video right now?”_  just before it ended. It was followed immediately by another video, this one just of Ben’s face.

_“I’m dying, Beatrice. These are my last moments. Cause of death: sickeningly cute couples.”_

And then a third video, again focused on Pedro and Balthazar.

_“YOU’RE TEN FEET AWAY FROM EACH OTHER. STOP! SENDING! SNAPCHATS!”_

Pedro and Balthazar both looked up; and Balthazar waved just before the video cut out.

The following snapchat was from Pedro, and it was he and Balthazar with their heads pressed together, both beaming into the camera. Ben stood behind them, looking entirely disgruntled. Pedro had circled Ben’s face a few times and added a big arrow pointing to the caption: _‘someone’s jealous’_.

Then came the snapchat from Balthazar, featuring a picture of Ben frowning out the window with a dozen sad faces drawn around him, and the caption  _‘when will bea return from the war?’_

She laughed to herself, shaking her head, and took a video to send back to them.

“Tell him to settle down,” She teased, “the war is over, I’m on my way. Now stop snapchatting me, all of you!”

Her response was a snapchat from Pedro: a picture of Ben making doe eyes at the camera with a pointy princess hat drawn on his head and hearts drawn all over.

“Stop!” She laugh-shouted in a video response, “Or else I’m not coming over!”

By the time she got there, she had fifteen unopened snapchats from the three of them. She burst into the living room and tossed her phone onto the couch, hands planted on her hips.

“You guys have a serious problem,” She said. Then she noticed all three of them had their phones out, all aimed directly at her. “Are you  _all_ seriously taking a snapchat of me right now?”

“No!” Ben cried, but Bea’s words started echoing from all three of their phones:  _‘you guys have a serious problem!’_ Balthazar and Pedro started laughing, and Ben just shook his head, sighing heavily. “Betrayed by my own phone. How cruel.”

“You guys are a menace to society,” She said. She bit her lip, trying to keep from grinning. “…But you should still totally send me that snap.”


	63. Pun Battle!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for anon, who requested ben and bea annoying the others by telling terrible puns.

“So I ate some food coloring yesterday,” Ben announced casually to the lunch table, “the doctor says I’ll be fine, but I feel as if I’ve  _dyed_  a little inside.”

“Ha-ha,” Pedro deadpanned, “very funny, Ben.”

“Funny? No. That was a terrible pun,” Beatrice declared. “I can think of one hundred and one better ones, just off the top of my head.”

“Are you challenging me to a pun-off?” Ben leaned forward in his seat, intrigued. “Because if so, I accept.”

“Here we go,” Meg sighed, resting her chin in her palm. “Settle in, everyone.”

“Are you ready for this one? Okay – I got shampoo in my mouth when I was singing in the shower this morning,” Bea said, nudging Ursula with her elbow and grinning like a maniac, “talk about a  _soap opera_.”

“That’s weak, Duke. Try this one on for size,” Ben fired back, “does anybody need an ark? Because I  _Noah_  guy.”

“I was reading a book about anti-gravity the other day,” Bea rattled off, “I couldn’t put it down!”

“I can’t believe this is happening again,” Hero shook her head, “Honestly, how many puns can you two possible know?”

“What do you call an alligator in a vest?” Ben asked, completely ignoring Hero, “An  _investigator_.”

“Oh yeah? Well, how do you define a will? It’s a  _dead giveaway_.”

“What kinds of trees do fingers grow on? A  _palm_  tree!”

“Why did the golfer bring two pairs of pants to the game? In case he got a  _hole in one._ ”

“This is officially too much for me,” Pedro announced, getting up from the table, “as the student leader of Messina High, I am declaring this a pun-free zone.”

“You can’t do that,” Bea argued, “that’s cruel and unusual  _pun_ ishment!” Ben laughed so hard he spit out his soda, narrowly avoiding Balthazar, who ducked out of the way just in time.

“Okay, that was a good one,” he commended, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. “You win this round, Beatrice.”

“The Pun Queen triumphs!” She gloated, beaming.

“Don’t get too comfortable winning,” He warned, “tomorrow, I’m challenging you to a rap battle.”


	64. Club Wars!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for fictionalbirds, who requested "a college 'we're both vying freshmen at fall festival to get them to join our club but we're both failing because of the couple doing the tango to the right'"-fic for Beadick.

“I am going to kill whoever is in charge of the layout for the tables,” Bea snarled. “Why would anyone ever put Ben-the-Dick’s stupid club next to ours?”

“Probably because your clubs are basically identical,” Ursula suggested, helping Hero set up the tray of cookies.

“They’re completely different!” Bea argued. “ _We_ are an audio visual club, and they -”

“And they’re a multimedia club,” Ursula finished, “which is almost exactly the same thing.” 

“Speaking of which, have you considered merging into one group?” Hero asked, setting out a  _help yourself_ sign in front of the cookies, “I mean, when you get down to it, we’re all doing the same thing, aren’t we? Vlogging?”

“That isn’t -”

“Cookies? You’re bribing the freshmen now?” Ben criticized, approaching the table with Claud and Pedro in tow, “that’s basically cheating.”

“Hey, Hero,” Claudio waved and Hero blushed, smiling wide. 

“Hi, Claudio,” She greeted, handing him a cookie. Bea slapped it out of her hand.

“No!” She snapped, “Do not give away cookies to the enemy, traitor. These are for prospective club members only.”

“I could be a prospective member,” Claudio shrugged, grinning at Hero. Ben rolled his eyes.

“Watch it, Benedict Arnold,” he warned, “I’m right here. At least wait until I’m not around before you stab me in the back.”

“I hope you two realize that a whole group of freshmen have walked past the table while you guys have been squabbling,” Pedro smirked. 

“What? Crap.” Ben jogged back over to his table, grabbing a stack of flyers and immediately shoving them at a dazed looking freshman. “Like listening to yourself talk? Fancy becoming a Youtube Star? Join my multimedia club!”

“Don’t listen to him,” Bea interrupted, thrusting a pamphlet and a cookie at the unsuspecting student, “The AV club has all that and more. We’ll actually teach you how to edit your videos and come up with a narrative, instead of just posting unedited garbage from bathtubs, like  _certain people_ who won’t be named.”

“Bathtubs?” The freshman repeated weakly, “Why would anyone -”

They were cut off by loud music filling the room, shortly followed by a couple tangoing past - Meg, clutching a rose between her teeth, and some random guy. They danced right between the sparring groups, over to a table right next to theirs. The guy dipped Meg down low, and when the song ended and he helped her upright, the entire cafeteria burst into applause. The table was immediately flanked by students, including the one Bea and Ben had been feuding over.

“God Dammit, Meg,” Bea cursed under her breath. 

“Such a showoff,” Ben complained, shaking his head.

“Take notes, kids,” Meg teased, grinning at them from her table, “ _that_  is how you promote your club.”


	65. Pregnancy Scare!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for anon, who requested a beadick pregnancy scare.

She skipped her classes on Friday to drive from her university to Ben’s. It was only a two hour drive, but that day, it felt like forever.

He wasn’t at his flat when she arrived, and neither was anyone else, but he’d given her a key immediately after moving in, so she let herself in, made herself a cup of tea, and tried not to panic while she waited for him to come home.

When he arrived an hour later and found her on the couch, he broke out into a wide grin.

“I thought you said you couldn’t visit this weekend! Your timing is perfect. The others are away, so it was just going to be me here all by my lonesome.” He went to hug her, and when she stiffened in his arms, he realized something was wrong. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

“More like didn’t happen,” she said. She took a deep breath before telling him her news. “My period is late.”

“Your period is –” he froze, recognition dawning on him, and he swallowed nervously. “How late?”

“Late enough,” she shrugged, “I think… I think I’m pregnant.”

The color drained from his face.

“But we’re so  _careful_ ,” He said.

“Well, you know,” she said, “even if something has a ninety-nine percent success rate, there’s still room for error…”

“Have you taken a test?”

“Not yet,” she shook her head, “I didn’t want to do it alone.”

“Good thing you don’t have to.” He squeezed her hand. “I’ll be right here with you, every step of the way. Do you want me to buy it? I can run out now and be back in ten minutes –”

“No,” She said, too quickly, “not yet. If the test comes back positive… that makes it too real. I can’t pretend it’s not happening or ignore it. Can we just wait until tomorrow?”

“Of course,” he said, taking her in his arms again. This time she returned the embrace, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in his shoulder.

He made them dinner and neither of them mentioned anything more about the potentially life altering news hanging over their heads. He even made her laugh a few times, which she was eternally grateful for. She helped with the dishes and they watched a movie before going to bed, and for a while, they could pretend that it was just a regular visit. Bea curled into his arms, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

“I know we’re not talking about this,” he said, “but I just want you to know that if it  _is_ positive – I’m with you, whatever you want to do. Keep it, give it up for adoption, abort it – whatever you want to do, Beatrice.”

“I know,” she said, “I know you are.”

“I love you,” he said. She curled tighter against him.

“I know that, too.”

-

Ben was woken up at three in the morning by excited screaming coming from the bathroom.

“Bea?” He sprang out of the empty bed, and Bea burst into the room, looking positively joyous.

“I just got my period!” She cried, smile filling her whole face as she jumped up and down, “I have never in my life been so _happy_ to have my period!”

Ben ran towards her, taking her in his arms and kissing her.

“We need to celebrate,” He announced, “come on.”

She followed him into the kitchen, where he poured them each a shot of vodka.

“Don’t people normally drink champagne to celebrate?” She teased, taking one of the offered shot glasses.

“Don’t get fancy on me now, Duke.” He clinked his glass with hers. “A toast to not being pregnant. At least not at this stage of our lives.”

They threw back the shots, both wincing as they went down.

“Hey,” Bea took his hand in hers, smiling shyly, “’not at this stage in our lives’, huh?”

“You know it,” He grinned. “Give it a decade – if you think you’re pregnant  _then,_  I’ll be ecstatic.”

She grabbed the vodka bottle, pouring them each one more shot, handing one to Ben.

“To the future,” She said, “to ten years from now. And to right now, when‘i'm not pregnant’ is the most beautiful sentence I can possibly imagine.”

“Here, here,” He beamed, and they threw back the shots.


	66. Airports! (Part 2!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For jesuisdansserdaigle, who requested "we’re both stuck in this airport cause of a storm and i’m afraid of thunder au" for beadick.

“I’m starting to think you’re not actually afraid of thunderstorms,” Bea accused, glancing down at Ben, who had nuzzled into her shoulder, pressing himself as tight against her as he could manage in the stiff plastic chairs of the airport terminal.

“A ridiculous suggestion,” He replied, “I have a very real fear, and the only thing that helps is knowing my personal knight in shining armor is protecting me.”

“Oh, always,” She teased, an undeniable grin filling her face. There was another clap of thunder.

“See?” He buried his face against her neck. “Terrifying.”


	67. Bookstore AU!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for saurons-license-plate, who requested 'we opened bookshops across the street from each other and i guess there's no harm in checking out the competition'.

“This just seems like you’re asking for trouble, bro,” Pedro shook his head, “Do not go in there. When she finds out that you’re -”

“You always expect the worst will happen,” Ben dismissed, waving him off, “don’t over think it. What’s she going to do, single handedly halt production on my store? I don’t think so.”

He pushed open the door to the tiny shop, entering the used bookstore. Hero looked up from the window display she was working on and flashed them a bright smile.

“Hey guys,” She greeted, “what brings you here on this lovely day?”

“Hero, do we have any more copies of -” Bea stopped dead in her tracks, emerging from the stock room, face settling into a frown. “What are you doing here, dickface?”

“Hey, Bea,” Pedro waved.

“Hi Pedro,” She greeted impatiently, gaze immediately shooting back to Ben, “Seriously though, what are you doing here?”

“Just checking out the competition, darling.”

“Don’t you  _darling_  me,” She scoffed, then her expression darkened, realization setting in. “Competition?”

“You bet,” He nodded. “I’m opening my own bookshop down the street. Except mine won’t be old, discarded, secondhand books - they’ll be shiny and new and in perfect condition.”

“Why would - you can’t do that!” She sputtered, turning redder by the second, “We already have a bookstore! We’ve been here for almost two years! We have all the books people need. You’re essentially useless. There is literally no point to you doing this.”

“Other than ruffling your feathers, you mean,” He winked. “You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

“Stop,” She snapped, “Don’t - don’t even. Pedro, did you know about this?” 

“I’m innocent,” He held up his hands, “I just found out this morning. I warned him.”

“Ben, no offense,” Hero said gently, wrinkling her brow, “but do you even know the first thing about running a business?”

“That’s what my fancy new business partner is for,” Ben explained, “Claudio’s great. He handles all the boring stuff, and I handle all the publicity. I’m the face of the company.”

“Too bad for the company,” Bea simpered mockingly.

“Snark all you want, sweetheart. It’s going to be huge. We just got the go-ahead from the city - we break ground next week, where the old cinema is. There’s going to be a ceremony and everything.”

Bea perked up immediately.

“Oh,” she said, innocently enough, “is that so.”

“It  _is_ so,” He boasted, “so you can kiss your customers goodbye.”

“I guess we’ll just have to see,” She said, all too sweetly. “See you at the ground-breaking ceremony, Benedick.”

“Told you that you were over thinking it,” He said to Pedro on the way out, “You always jump to the worst-case scenario.”

The door closed behind them, and Hero immediately whirled on Bea, a questioning smile on her face.

“Why are you so calm about this? What do you have planned?”

“Nothing. Just, you know, the perfect thing to stop him.” Bea grinned wickedly. “That old cinema is a historical landmark. Get your glitter pens and posterboard ready, Hero. We’re about to stage a protest.”

-

“Ben, it’s Claudio. Where are you? Have you turned on the news this morning? Because you really ought to.”

“Ben, it’s me again. Seriously, turn on the news. And get your ass down here.”

“Ben. It’s Claud. I’m not kidding, man, you’ve got to get down here, stat. And we may want to start considering a new location for the whole bookstore thing.”

-

Ben showed up twenty minutes later than he was meant to, and he was thrilled to see the assortment of news vans parked all around, immersed in an enormous crowd.

Claudio spotted him almost immediately and ran towards him, clearly panicked.

“Where have you been? I’ve been looking all over. Reporters keep asking me questions. I can’t keep saying ‘no comment’ - you’re supposed to be the spokesman, not me!”

“I can’t believe this turnout,” Ben said admiringly, straightening his tie, “I mean, I knew we’d draw _some_  kind of a crowd, but this is unreal. What a show of support! Is Bea here yet? I want to see that stupid, smug smile wiped clean off her face.”

“Oh, she’s here alright…” Claudio mumbled. “Brace yourself.”

They pushed towards the front of the crowd, cameras flashing like mad, people shouting from all sides. And when Ben finally saw what all the fuss was about, his stomach dropped.

Bea had chained herself to the old cinema doors.

Her stupid, smug smile had never been wider.


	68. Life of the Party!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for jesuisdansserdaigle, who requested a meg drabble centered around the quote "give me a bottle of bourbon and half a chicken and i'll conquer the world", from 'the wild party'!

“I want to feel like I’m the only one!”

“Well, there’s plenty of others out there -”

She splashed her drink in his face, storming inside while the others looked on. Robbie stood for a moment, stunned, before snarling  _turn that fucking camera off_  and leaving.

Hero found Meg in the bathroom, carefully reapplying her mascara.

“Rule number one, babes,” She said, sweeping the wand across her lashes, “never let them see you cry. It gives them all the power.”

“Are you okay?” Hero asked gently, meeting Meg’s gaze in the mirror, eyes full of sympathy. 

“Me? Are you kidding?” Meg scoffed. “Give me a bottle of bourbon and half a chicken and I’ll conquer the world.”

“You  _are_ quite a force to be reckoned with,” Hero laughed.

“That I am,” Meg agreed, preening. “And you know what? I’m done wasting time on he-who-must-not-be-named.”

“Good for you,” Hero smiled, “I’m really proud of you.”

“Thanks, babes,” Meg smiled at her, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go see about that bottle of bourbon.”


	69. Borrowed Pencils!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for anon, who requested "you think i always forget pencils in this class but i really just want to talk to you and now i have more than 200 pencils" for Pedrazar.

Finding an excuse to talk to him was the tricky part. Pedro was nice enough that he’d probably politely listen to whatever topic of conversation Balthazar could fumble his way through, but he didn’t trust himself not to gush. So he went for the simpler route, dropping his pencil in his book bag and leaning over to Pedro’s desk.

“Do you have a pencil I could borrow?” He asked.

“Sure thing,” Pedro replied, passing him one, “you can just keep it.” Then he turned back to his notes.

This went on for a while. Not every day, lest Pedro catch on, but about twice a week.

“We’ve really got to get you some pencils of your own,” Pedro joked, after nearly two months of it. Balthazar laughed, murmuring a halfhearted agreement.

At the end of each class, he’d stop at his locker, tossing the pencil in, a sort of unintended collection. They remained there, forgotten, until another was added.

“Can I borrow a pencil?” He asked the following week, leaning across his desk to whisper.

“Only if I can borrow your history book,” he replied. “Mine’s missing the last three pages of the chapter. I don’t have any real proof, but I’m pretty sure Ben’s the culprit.”

“No problem,” Balth said, “Just come by my locker later.”

“Awesome,” Pedro flashed him a smile, “I’ll grab it before football practice if that’s cool.”

“Yeah, that’s cool,” he nodded, hoping he appeared as nonchalant as he was trying to sound, “see you there.”

Sure enough, after their last class let out, Pedro was leaning against the lockers, waiting for him.

“Thanks again for letting me borrow it,” He said, smiling sheepishly, “I owe you one.”

“Nah,” Balthazar shook his head, unable to stop his grin, “it’s payback for all the pencils.”

The pencils, which he’d completely forgotten about storing in his locker until the exact moment he was opening it. More than a dozen of them tumbled out, spilling at their feet. They both stared down at them, Pedro’s face blank, Balthazar’s as red as a tomato, wishing more than anything that he could sink into the floor or that he would be randomly struck down by lightning – anything to get him out of his current situation.

“Uh,” he faltered, desperately trying to come up with an excuse, “um, the thing about those is – um –”

“Guess you’re all set on pencils, then,” Pedro joked, bending to pick them up. He was smiling, but it did very little to relieve Balthazar of his embarrassment.

“Here’s the history book,” He managed to mumble, practically shoving the textbook at Pedro, averting his gaze completely. “You can just… you can get it back to me whenever.”

“Thanks again, bro,” He said, taking the book and pressing the bundle of pencils into Balthazar’s hand. “See you tomorrow. Don’t forget to bring one of these.”

“I won’t,” He called, as Pedro headed down the hall. He glanced down at the fistful of pencils in his hand, sighing.

So much for that plan. 


	70. Proposal!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for jesuisdansserdaigle, who prompted bea proposing to ben!

She was so absorbed in paperwork that she almost missed the call completely.

“Hello?” She answered, a little too gruffly.

“Beatrice Duke?”

“This is she.”

“I’m calling from the Auckland City Hospital. We have you listed as the emergency contact for Benedick Hobbes? We just wanted to let you know that he was taken into emergency surgery a short while ago.”

“What?” Beatrice swore she felt her heart stop, paralyzed with fear. “What happened? Is he okay?”

“He’s having an appendectomy – that’s all the information I have at this time,” The woman said.

“Why am I only hearing about this  _now?_  Why didn’t anyone call me sooner?”

“I do apologize, ma’am, but sometimes the paperwork –”

“I’m on my way,” Bea interrupted, and she hung up immediately, leaping out of her chair. She practically sprinted to her car and drove as fast as she dared to the hospital, cursing the traffic  as she went, trying not to think about all of the  _what ifs_ running through her head.

She parked like an absolute asshole, but she didn’t have time to care, running into the hospital and heading immediately for the nurses’ station, terrified and frantic.

“I’m here for Ben Hobbes,” She said, breathless, “he’s in surgery, apparently? Can you tell me what happened?”

“The doctor can answer all of your questions as soon as he’s been moved to the recovery room,” The nurse assured her, “for now, why don’t you take a seat? It should only be a short wait.”

“So I can see him soon?” Bea asked, feeling like she could breathe for the first time since she’d gotten the phone call. The nurse nodded.

“It should only be a few minutes,” She said pleasantly. “What’s your relationship to the patient? Wife?”

“Girlfriend,” Bea corrected automatically. The nurse wrinkled her brow, smile faltering.

“Oh,” she said haltingly, “I’m afraid only family is allowed back.”

“Excuse me?” She glared. “I  _am_ family. We live together. We’ve been together for eight years.”

“I’m very sorry,” The nurse said – and to her credit, she did look genuinely apologetic, “but living together doesn’t qualify as family. When regular visiting hours begin, you can -”

“No, I don’t think you understand,” Bea cut her off. “I’ve known him since we were fourteen. We’ve been in a relationship since we were eighteen. We’re more than just ‘dating’. Just because we aren’t married doesn’t mean I am not his family. I’m his emergency contact, for fucksake, that’s got to count for something!”

“I understand why you’re upset, but those are the rules. It’s against policy to –”

“Well, it’s a stupid rule!” Bea yelled, slamming her palm down on the desk, “And a fucked up policy! If I’m the emergency contact, I should be allowed back there to see him.”

“Please lower your voice,” The nurse implored, “visiting hours begin at four, you can go back then.”

“That’s two hours from now!” She cried.

“Ma’am, if you don’t calm down, we will have to ask you to leave,” The nurse said, smile finally disappearing, a stern expression in its place. “I am very sorry, but you are not the only one who has a loved one in the hospital today. So please, take a walk or take a seat, and in two hours, you can visit with your boyfriend.”

She wanted to scream, to throw a fit and keep fighting, but if she was thrown out, she probably wouldn’t see Ben until he was discharged, much less in two hours. So she went to the cafeteria and bought herself a coffee and a muffin, both of which tasted as though they’d been out for a few days, and tried to call Hero. She didn’t pick up, so Bea just texted her, instead:  _ben’s in the hospital, but he’s ALLEGEDLY fine – I wouldn’t know because NO ONE WILL LET ME SEE HIM._

Okay, so Hero wasn’t answering. That was fine – she knew her cousin well enough to know exactly what she’d say in this situation, anyway.  _You get further being kind to people than you do being demanding,_  she would advise.  _Wouldn’t_ you _rather help a nice person than a rude one?_

Bea shook out her hands and circled the cafeteria a few times before heading back upstairs to the nurses station. She took a deep breath, smiled wide, and did her best Hero impersonation.

“I’m sorry for my behavior earlier,” She said, as sweetly as she could muster, “I let my emotions get the best of me. I’m just so worried. I completely understand the rules, but I’m just wondering if it would make a difference if I told you that we were engaged?”

The nurse narrowed her eyes, glancing at Bea’s left hand.

“You don’t have a ring,” She observed.

“It’s getting resized,” Bea lied, “it’s a fairly new engagement.”

“Why didn’t you mention it earlier?”

“I was too scared, I wasn’t thinking clearly,” Bea said. She was really laying it on thick, so she hoped it was working. “So can I go in and see him? Please?”

“I’m very sorry,” The nurse shook her head, “I really am, but there’s nothing I can do for you. You’ll just have to wait.”

“Okay,” Bea sighed, glancing around the waiting room. Her gaze settled on a bored looking girl, probably around twelve or thirteen years old. She turned back to the nurse and smiled. “Thanks anyway.” She sat next to the girl, making sure no one else nearby was paying attention.

“Hey,” she whispered, “I’ll give you ten bucks if you cause a scene for me. Fake an illness or pretend to faint or something.”

The girl glanced up at her, intrigued.

“I’ll fake-cry if you bump it to twenty,” She offered.  

“Done.” Bea reached into her wallet and pressed the bill in the girl’s hand. She flashed Bea a smile then walked up to the nurse’s station, already whimpering.

“I don’t feel very well,” She mumbled, “It feels like it’s a million degrees in here.”

Then she crumpled to the ground. The nurse jumped up and ran around the desk, crouching down over the girl. Bea seized the opportunity and tiptoed around them, slipping through the doors while everyone was distracted.

She was going to have to remember that move next time she wanted to ditch out of work. That kid was a champ.

She darted through the hallways, peeking into each room in an effort to find Ben’s. She heard his laugh drifting from further up the hallway, and she ran, bursting in only to find him happily slurping down a jello cup and watching something on the crappy hospital television.

“Hullo, love,” He greeted brightly, “hope you weren’t waiting too long. It’s been a hell of a day.”

“ _Oh my God_.” She dropped her bag to the floor and climbed right into the hospital bed, careful to avoid wires and tubes. She curled into him, voice muffled. “Ben, oh my god, I was so worried.”

“Sorry to have scared you,” He said, playful air in his tone gone. He wrapped an arm around her and kissed her temple. “But I’m okay now, see? Nothing to be worried about.”

She lifted her head from where it was buried against it his chest, a determined look in her eyes.

“You and me,” she said fiercely, “we are getting married.”

Ben smiled wider  than she’d ever seen before.

“Did you just propose?” He asked, practically giddy, “ _That’s_ how you proposed to me? Where’s the romance? Where’s the flash mob?”

“I’m serious,” She said, sitting completely upright, “I am not going through this again, Ben. I’m not being told I don’t get to see you when you’re having  _emergency surgery_ because we’re ‘not family’. Which is bullshit, by the way – you  _are_  my family. You  _are_.”

“Of course I am, love,” Ben said, bringing her hand to his lips and kissing her knuckles.

“And I know  _we_ don’t need a piece of paper to prove that, but _apparently_ this hospital does,” She gestured wildly with her free hand, “so if that’s what it takes, fine. We’re getting married. I’m going to husband you up.”

“Are you going to wear white? Something old, something new?” Ben teased, “Something borrowed, something blue?”

“Stop,” She rolled her eyes, shoving him away, “obviously we’re not going to have a  _ceremony_.”

“You haven’t even asked me properly!” He laughed, “You haven’t even given me a chance to say yes. You don’t even know if I  _want_ a ceremony.”

“Do you?” She asked, recoiling.

“Of course not,” He dismissed, “but  _still._  I think I deserve a nice proposal. Especially after having my appendix removed. It was a near death experience!”

“Too soon,” She said, pausing to kiss his cheek, “don’t joke.”

“Sorry,” He smiled at her, “let’s not think about that. Instead, let’s focus on me being perfectly healthy, right in front of you, while I’m waiting for a moving proposal from the love of my life.”

She rolled her eyes again, but couldn’t do anything to hide the smile on her face.

“Benedick Hobbes,” She said, taking his left hand in hers, “you drive me nuts. Truly, you’re the most ridiculous person I have ever met in my whole life. Will you marry me?” Ben swooned, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye.

“I thought you’d never ask,” He said, and he pulled her into a kiss.


	71. Fake Proposals!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this awhile back but forgot to add it here - oops! Prompted by exactly no one, but I wanted to write it, so I did. :)

The first time, it was an accident. Bea’s mother had sent her a ring in the mail – it wasn’t her style at all, a big blue sapphire set on a gold band; but it was apparently some kind of family heirloom and it was important to her mother that Bea kept it. (“I know you’re already married and I  _know_ how you feel about rings, so don’t think of it that way. Just think of it as a way to remember your Gran.”) So she put it in her pocket and went to meet Ben at the restaurant.

“Let me show you what my mum sent me,” She said, the minute she sat down, “it’s so gaudy. I mean, I’m not really a jewelry person as it is, but this is like – it’s truly ridiculous.” She reached into her pocket and realized with alarm that it was no longer there.

“Oh no,” she whispered, eyes widening, “oh, she’s going to  _kill_  me…”

“Wait, I think I see it!” Ben got out of his chair and knelt on the ground, reaching under the table for it. “There we go. Good as new!” He held it up to her, still on one knee.

“Thanks,” Bea grinned, and slipped it onto her finger, “I guess it’s safer to just wear it.”

“Congratulations!”

Both of them looked up. The entire restaurant was staring at them, beaming. One of the waiters darted back to the kitchen and came out with a bottle of champagne.

“Oh, no, he wasn’t –” Bea began, but the waiter cut her off.

“On the house, of course,” He said, pouring them both a glass. “Dessert, as well. Consider it an engagement present.”

“But we’re already –” She tried again, but this time it was Ben who stopped her, with a swift kick to her shin under the table.

“Thank you so much, we really appreciate it,” He said to the waiter, reaching for Bea’s hand. The waiter smiled and left, and he turned to her, a scheme already falling into place. “Write your mother a thank you note. This is the greatest thing she has ever done for us.”

-

Ben carried the ring around and proposed to her nearly everywhere they went. He did it at a movie theatre and their tickets were free. He kept insisting they go to restaurants way out of their price range, and he’d propose right before the bill came, and the check would mysteriously never make its way to the table – or if it did, it was always reduced.

“We’re going to get caught eventually,” She reminded him, “ _someone_  is going to figure out that we’re already married, or at  _least_ figure out that we’re getting engaged three times a week.”

“Ye of little faith,” Ben grinned, “and even if we do get caught – at least we can enjoy the benefits until then! We’re working the system, Bea. Just because we jumped from dating to married doesn’t mean we don’t deserve special treatment too!”

“Whatever makes you happy,” She sighed.

-

Proposing at the airport was her idea, actually. They were flying out to visit her parents, and they were boarding zone 5 (“I didn’t even know there  _was_ a zone five!” Bea cried), their seats were all the way in the back of the plane, the airport was stiflingly hot, and if she had to guess, she’d say there were approximately a billion people crammed together at their gate.

“Ben,” She whispered, nudging him, “propose to me.”

“Really?” He asked, surprised. “What are you hoping for – free airport stuff? A sweatshirt from the gift shop?”

“Bigger than that,” She leaned in conspiratorially, “I’m shooting for first class here.”

“You think they’ll bump us?” Ben asked, eyes widening. “I’ve never been in first class before. That would be so cool. Alright, I’m on it. Follow my lead.”

He took her by the hand and tugged her up from her seat, leading her towards the enormous windows that overlooked all of the planes on the tarmac. Then he dropped to one knee, pulling the ring from his pocket.

“Beatrice, my light, my dove, my one true love,” He declared, projecting for the benefit of those around them (most of whom were starting to stare), “every day with you is a wonderful adventure. Will you do me the great honor of marrying me?”

“Oh,  _Ben_ ,” She cried dramatically, pressing her hand to her heart and batting her eyes, “a thousand times yes!” He slid the ring on her finger and she tugged him up, and when they kissed, she made sure to pop her foot like those women in Hero’s cheesy rom-coms were always doing.

Almost immediately, they were flagged down by one of the flight attendants and two other passengers, all of whom were beaming.

“Congratulations,” the flight attendant said sweetly, “these are two of our  _very generous_ first class passengers, and they’ve offered to switch seats with you.”

“Happy engagement,” one of the passengers, a middle aged woman, grinned, “you deserve to celebrate in style.”

The other passenger, who looked to be just a few years older than Ben and Bea, was frowning.

“Wait a minute,” He said, squinting at them, “do I know you from somewhere?”

“Uh oh,” Bea whispered, squeezing Ben’s hand.

“Stay cool,” He replied through his teeth, grin plastered to his face.

“You’re the couple from the restaurant a few weeks ago!” The man said, piecing it together. “What the hell? You’re  _already engaged_! I saw it happen!”

“Excuse me?” The flight attendant frowned. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I understand.”

“He proposed to her at the restaurant I work at,” The man explained, “although now I’m questioning whether or not  _that_ was even real. They’re just trying to get special treatment!” The flight attendant was practically glaring now, staring at Bea and Ben, who looked like they wanted the floor to open up and swallow them whole.

“Do you care to explain yourselves?” She asked.

“Honestly? No,” Ben admitted. “I don’t think there’s anything we can say to get out of this one.”

“Nope,” Bea agreed, slinking away. “We’re pretty much screwed on this one.”

-

They were the very last two to board the plane, crammed in the last row.

“Because I love you, I will refrain from pointing out that this is your fault,” Ben said. Bea gaped at him.

“ _My_  fault? You started the whole fake proposal thing!” She protested.

“Yes, but  _you_  were the one who wanted to do it at the airport.”

“I don’t even have the energy to point out all the flaws in your argument,” Bea said, slumping down in her seat. She switched the ring to her middle finger and sighed. “It was nice while it lasted, though.”


	72. Standing At My Front Door!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for skypirategirl, who requested 5 times Bea found Ben on her doorstep. (I cheated a little and did four times Bea found Ben on her doorstep, and one time Ben found Bea on his.)

**.one – the first summer.**

“Bea, there’s someone at the door for you!”

Bea groaned, pulling the blankets over her head. Pedro should know better than to come around before noon – she liked sleeping in and lounging around in her pajamas with Hero for a while before doing anything. And besides, she’d been out late last night – she and that new kid, Ben, had stayed up talking long after the rest of their friends had dispersed.

“Beatrice!” Her mother called again, “It’s rude to keep your friend waiting!”

She rolled over and looked at the clock – it was just barely eight in the morning. She could kill Pedro. She was going to give him a piece of her mind for waking her up so early. She trudged downstairs, yawning and rubbing tiredly at her eyes.

“Pedro, I swear -” she froze when she got to the door, eyes landing on the boy waiting on the steps. “Ben? What are you doing here so early?”

He grinned when he saw her, his whole face lighting up.

“Nice jammies,” He greeted, “what’s on them? Are those donuts?”

“…And cupcakes,” She mumbled. “They’re Hero’s. Seriously, why are you here? Aren’t you tired?”

“Exhausted,” He nodded, “but my mum is taking me and my cousins to the zoo.”

“Oh yeah,” Bea recalled, “you said that.”

“So do you want to come? We’ve got room for one more and she said I could bring a friend.”

“Well, Hero’s got piano lessons and art class, so I had a solid four hours of being bored out of my skull planned today,” Bea pretended to mull it over, “but I  _guess_ I could squeeze a zoo trip in, too.”

“Great!” Ben’s smile widened. “Do you want to change first, or are you wearing your pajamas?”

“Why, are you embarrassed to be seen with me?” She teased.

“Not at all,” he assured her, “In fact, I want one just like it. We can match.”

“Shut up, you dork.” She rolled her eyes. “Give me five minutes. I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be right here.”

 

**.two – the following summer.**

“It was  _hilarious_ ,” Meg said, “I wish you could’ve seen his face, it was all -”

She stopped short as they approached the Duke’s house, causing Bea and Hero to walk directly into her.

“ _Ow,_  Meg,” Bea frowned, “what gives?”

“You have a visitor,” She said, raising her brow. Bea glanced past her, her face immediately darkening.

“What are  _you_  doing here?” She asked coldly. Ben rose from the steps.

“I was waiting for Leo,” he said, “he’s supposed to run drills with me so I can dominate football tryouts this year.”

“Not today he’s not,” Bea replied, “he has a meeting at the school today.”

“Well  _yesterday_ he told me to meet him  _tomorrow_ at two,” Ben insisted, crossing his arms, “and that’s _today_. And it’s two.”

“Congrats on grasping the consecutive order of days, your parents must be very proud,” Bea sneered.

“Jeeze, you can cut the tension between you guys with a knife,” Meg said. She glanced back and forth between them and grinned. “I love it.”

“Maybe Leo got mixed up,” Hero suggested. “He should be home in an hour or so, if you want to wait for him inside. Or you can just leave and come back in a bit?”

“Or don’t come back at all,” Bea huffed under her breath, “or just go back to stupid England.”

“Bea, that’s so mean,” Hero chastised.

“Sorry.” Bea forced a smile. “That  _was_ mean. England isn’t stupid.  _Ben_ is.”

“Beatrice!” Hero cried.

“You know what, Hero? I think I  _will_  stay and wait for Leo,” Ben stared directly at Bea, smirking. “Maybe you can show me where Beatrice keeps that stick when it’s not up her ass.”

“Yikes,” Meg’s eyes widened.

“Screw you, jerk,” Bea snapped.

“Beatrice -” Hero started, but Bea turned on her heel, clenching her fists at her sides.

“I’m going for a walk,” she grumbled, “Call me when _he’s_ gone.”

 

**.three – the pizza party.**

“Can you get the door, Bea? My hands are covered in cookie dough.”

“Sure,” Bea leaned over and pinched off a bit of dough, popping it into her mouth. “But if it’s Darcy on a horse, that’s your loss.”

“I think I’ll manage,” Hero laughed, and the doorbell rang again. “Now stop sneaking pieces and get the door!”

“Whoever it is should know by now that they can just come in without knocking,” Bea called over her shoulder, “it’s not like we aren’t all friends!”

She swung the door open, and there was Ben. She frowned, sighing.

“I stand corrected,” she mumbled. “Hey, Dickface.”

“Hi, Beatrice,” He greeted, full of nervous energy, “how are you? It’s so good to see you! You’re looking well. I mean, not that you normally  _don’t_ look well. You’re just looking  _especially_ well today.”

Bea glanced down at her outfit then back at Ben, her frown giving way to confusion.

“Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m great,” He nodded. “I’m fantastic.”

“Who is it?” Hero peered around the corner. She smiled, waving at him. “Hi, Ben. Glad you could make it. How are you?”

“Hm? Oh,” He glanced over, as though barely registering Hero’s presence. “Hi, Hero. So, Bea, this pizza – what do you think of putting olives on it? Because some people love olives, and some people _hate_ olives, and some people only  _think_  they hate olives, so I’m just wondering -”

“You are  _so_ weird today,” Bea muttered, shaking her head, “like, weirder than normal.”

“So no strong feelings about olives, then?”

“No, I don’t have any opinion on olives,” She said flatly. “Now, are you coming inside or were you just going to hang out on my doorstep all day?”

 

**.four – after Hero’s party.**

Beatrice had every intention of skipping school to stay with Hero come Monday morning, but Leo was having none of it. He demanded that she go, saying that he wasn’t going to let “Hero’s mistakes” ruin _both_ of their futures.

“It’s got nothing to do with you, Beatrice!” He’d yelled, when Bea announced her plans to skip.

“If it’s got to do with Hero, it’s got to do with me!” Bea had argued, “She needs to know  _someone_ in this house is on her side!”

In the end, Leo said she could either go to school voluntarily or he’d carry her from class to class himself. She stormed out in such a rage that she practically tripped right over Ben, who was sitting on the doorstep, waiting for her.

“Uh, hi,” He greeted shyly. Beatrice didn’t think she’d ever seen Shy Ben before – it was odd. And oddly endearing.

She pushed the thought aside – she shouldn’t be thinking that way. Not now, at least.

“Hey,” she mumbled in reply.

“I, um, thought maybe it would be easier to go to school if you had someone to walk in with,” He explained. “Strength in numbers, right?”

“I am  _not_ going to school,” Bea practically snarled, “I can’t even look at any of them.”

“Well if Claud or Pedro try to start anything -”

“It’s not just them,” She said, dropping down beside him on the stoop. “Have you  _seen_  facebook lately? Or twitter, or even youtube? It’s  _everybody._ ”

Ben reached his hand out, but after a moment’s hesitation he withdrew it, letting it drop back at his side.

“Not  _everybody_ ,” He said, offering a small smile instead. Bea blinked back tears, tilting her head upwards as though that might stop them from falling.

“ _Feels_  like everybody,” She said quietly.

She felt Ben’s hand on her knee, and when she looked over at him, he was staring right at her, face set.

“So we won’t go, then.”

“You don’t have to be nice just to prove something to me,” She said softly, “I already know you aren’t like them.”

“I’m not doing it to prove anything,” He said. “I’m doing it because I want to.”

Bea held his gaze, as though searching for something.

“…Okay,” She said finally, “so where _do_ we go?”

“You tell me. I’ll follow you anywhere.”

Her heart jumped, and her cheeks tinged pink. She rose quickly from the steps, deliberately looking away from him.

“Okay then,” She said, “give me your keys. We’re going on an adventure.”

 

**.five – the morning ben leaves for university.**

Ben’s mother insisted on bringing him to University, even though it was a ridiculous drive and he’d told her she didn’t have to. She also insisted that they leave at six in the morning, so they didn’t “lose the whole day driving”. They loaded up the car the night before, after he said goodbye to Beatrice, and the next morning his mum woke him up fifteen minutes early with a steaming mug of tea in each hand.

“I need you to run to the car and check that we didn’t forget anything,” She instructed.

“We didn’t forget anything,” He yawned, taking one of the mugs, “you went over the list three times last night.”

“Just one more time, then,” She said. She handed him the second mug. “And take this one, too.”

“Why do I need both of them?”

“Just do it, please, Benedick,” She said. “You’ll be thanking me in a minute.”

He shuffled through the house, careful not to spill as he opened the front door – and immediately realized why his mother had made a second cup.

“Hey,” Beatrice greeted. “Nice jammies.”

“What are you doing here?” He asked, stunned.

“I can leave if you want,” She smiled.

“Don’t,” He said, “I’m happy to see you. I’m always happy to see you. I’m just confused.”

“Your mum called after you and I said goodbye yesterday,” Bea explained, “because she had to give me something.”

“Really?” Ben asked. “What?”

“A one way ticket from Wellington back to Auckland,” She said casually, trying to conceal her grin. “Of course, that doesn’t do me much good, seeing as I’m already  _in_ Auckland… so she also gave me these.” She held up Ben’s car keys, jingling them.

“Really,” Ben said, smiling as well now, “And why would she do that?”

“Well, it  _is_ your car,” Bea shrugged, “it’s not going to do her any good just sitting in the garage while you’re at school.  _Plus_ she said her days of driving long distances are over. She said anything more than three hours, she’d rather just fly. So she’s not going to be driving you to Wellington anymore.”

“She’s not, huh?” Ben’s smile widened.

“Nope,” Bea beamed right back, “ _I_  am.”

“As amazing as this news is,” He said, “there is one particularly big downside to this.”

“Yeah?” Bea asked, “What’s that?”

“Saying goodbye to you last night nearly killed me,” He said, “I’m not so sure I can do that again.”

“So don’t,” Bea said softly, “we just won’t say it. It can be like every other time one of us has to go home.”

“Yeah, but every other time one of us has to go home, we knew we’d see each other the next day.” He sat on the steps, and Bea sat down beside him.

“Hey. We agreed not to be one of those sad, mopey couples, remember?”  She rested her head on his shoulder, and his hand found hers. “We can do this long distance thing for a bit. It’s like you said last night – it’s just for now, not forever.”

“For now, not forever,” He echoed, nodding. “I’m really gonna miss Auckland.”

“Well, I can’t speak for all of Auckland,” Bea said, “but I know at least  _I’m_ going to miss you.”

“Well this is awkward,” Ben said, his smile returning, “because I’m not going to miss you at all.”

“Jerk.” She nudged him with her elbow, laughing. “So. You ready to do this?”

“Not yet,” He squeezed her hand. “Just – not yet.”

They sat in silence, Bea’s head on Ben’s shoulder and his hand in hers, both of them staring out across the driveway, beyond the neighbor’s lawn, watching as the sky changed colors and the sun climbed higher. Bea tilted her head up to look at him, and he caught her lips in kiss. He shifted slightly so he could cradle her face in his hands, holding her close for just one more moment before they broke apart.

“Okay,” He said, pressing his forehead to hers. “Let’s go.”


	73. I Want You To Want Me!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for anon, who requested 4 times Ben felt unwanted (and one time he didn't).

**.one.**

He and Bea had been racing their bikes around the neighborhood all afternoon, with Hero peacefully riding hers a ways behind them, occasionally stopping to put some flowers or particularly pretty rocks into her basket.

“I have to head home for dinner soon,” Ben announced. “Wanna have one last race around the block? Mr. Riley’s mailbox can be the finish line.”

“Okay,” Bea grinned devilishly, “but winner gets to pick everything we watch  _and_ all of the snacks for our movie marathon tomorrow.”

“Deal,” Ben grinned, “READY-SET-GO!”

“Hey, no fair! I wasn’t ready!” She yelled after him, pedaling like her life depended on it.

By the time they turned the corner, though, they were neck and neck. When they’d looped back around and were only a few meters away from the mailbox, they saw her – Hero sobbing on the pavement, clutching her wrist, her bike abandoned beside her.  

“Hero!” Bea immediately jumped off her bike and ran to her cousin, crouching down beside her. “What happened?”

“There was a cat!” she wailed, burying her face against Bea’s shoulder, “It came out of nowhere and I didn’t want to hit it so I swerved and fell and I think I broke my wrist. It really, really hurts!”

“Come on, let’s get you home,” Bea encouraged, “We need to get you to the hospital.”

“Do you want me to run and get her parents?” Ben asked, “Or I can get my parents, or –”

“No, it’s okay,” Bea said, helping Hero up and wrapping an arm around her, “I’ve got it. Thanks, though.”

“Are you sure? I could even just come with you, if you want,” He offered, “Just to keep you company or something?”

“No, you should just go home. Your mum’s expecting you, anyway.” Bea shook her head, guiding Hero past him and back towards the house. “I’ll see you tomorrow, though, okay?”

“Okay,” He said, “if you’re sure don’t want me to come.”

“I’m sure. See you later, Ben.”

“See you later,” he mumbled.

 

**.two.**

“Pedro!” Ben came up behind him in the halls, throwing an arm around his shoulder. “What are you doing after football practice today?”

“Actually –”

“I’ll  _tell_ you what you’re doing!” Ben plowed on. “Coming to my house! We’re ordering a pizza and we’re going to ignore our homework to watch Game of Thrones. Because frankly, the fact that you haven’t seen it yet it  _really_ unforgivable. Our friendship won’t truly be cemented until you have experienced it.”

“That sounds great, mate, but I can’t today,” Pedro ducked out of Ben’s grasp. “I have plans with Beatrice.”

“ _Beatrice?_ ” Ben repeated, recoiling, “What are you doing hanging out with  _Beatrice_? Do you want me to get you out of it? I can fake an illness and say you need to bring me to the hospital or something. Or I can pretend to hit you with my car.”

“No way – I’ve seen the way you drive, I don’t think that’ll end well for me,” he laughed. “Besides, I don’t _want_ to get out of it. Just because you’ve got some weird thing about her –”

“First of all, it is not a ‘weird thing’, she’s just genuinely unpleasant and awful,” Ben defended, “and second of all, I’m a perfectly fine driver, aside from some unfortunate luck when it comes to birds. But you’re much bigger than a bird. The chances of me accidentally running you over are slim to none.”

“Still not a chance I’m willing to take,” Pedro smirked.

“Well, if you’re so dead set on hanging out with Beatrice: Queen of Damned, I might as well go with you to make it more bearable,” Ben sighed, as though resigned to his fate. “It’s the brotherly thing to do. Your pain is my pain. She can come eat pizza and watch Game of Thrones  _with_ us – she won’t be able to talk if we’re watching something. It won’t be  _that_ bad.”

“Really, bro, I’m all set,” Pedro said. “Bea’s my friend. Besides, I haven’t really gotten to hang out with her one on one since last time she came round to visit. We’re just gonna be working on student leader campaign stuff, anyway.”

“Well, I can help with  _that_ ,” Ben frowned, “I mean, how hard can it be?”

“Nah, you’d just be bored,” Pedro waved him off, “and you’d only try to rile her up. I don’t think the two of you can be in the same room for more than five minutes without an argument erupting. And I don’t need that on my campaign announcement video.”

“Video?” Ben asked, “ _She’s_  making you a campaign video? You know I have a camera, right? I vlog all the time now. I’m like an expert. I could make you a video in like, twenty minutes.”

“Yeah, because you don’t edit,” Pedro laughed. “You have to admit her videos are higher quality. People will take it more seriously if it comes from her channel.”

Ben had stopped a few paces back, staring at Pedro with a mixture of surprise and betrayal.

“Oh,” He said simply, “Okay then.”

“Aw, come on, I didn’t mean it like that,” Pedro sighed. “I just meant it’s been awhile since we hung out. If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t  _ask_  her to do the video. She offered. It’s not like I picked her over you or anything.”

“I guess,” Ben grumbled.

“But, hey, we can do pizza and Game of Thrones tomorrow, yeah?”

“Sure,” Ben forced himself to smile, “sounds good.”

 

**.three.**

Ben couldn’t focus on his English assignment, and he’d done every single thing he could think to do alone in his boring house to distract himself, so he grabbed his keys and did what he always did: he went to Pedro’s. (He might’ve gone to Claudio’s, if he hadn’t been so swept up in Hero, but lately he was either always with her or always talking about her, and neither of those options seemed appealing.)

When he showed up, however, he was greeted by Pedro and Beatrice kicking around a football in the front yard.

“Hey, Ben,” Pedro called over, waving, “what’s up?”

“Ugh,” Bea rolled her eyes, “did you invite him and not tell me? Not cool, Pedro.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize I needed an  _invitation_ to come to my best friend’s house,” Ben snapped.

“You don’t,” Pedro said, then turned to Bea, “he doesn’t.”

“See?” Ben said smugly, “No invitation necessary.”

“Whatever,” she grumbled.

“So either  _you_ can go home,” He suggested, “or you can be an actual pleasant person for once and kick the ball over here.”

“ _Happily,_ ” She replied, and she kicked the ball with all her might. It sailed past Ben, landing somewhere in the neighbor’s lawn.

“Beatrice…” Pedro warned.

“What? He  _asked_  me to kick it to him!” She argued, “It’s not my fault he wasn’t ready for it.”

“Jesus, why are you always  _such_ a bitch?” Ben yelled, exasperated, “I don’t know how  _anybody_ puts up with you! It’s no wonder we stopped hanging out!”

Bea’s jaw dropped and her eyes narrowed, glaring daggers at him.

“Get lost, Dickface,” She said coolly, “Nobody even wants you here.”

“Last I checked, this wasn’t your house,” Ben said. “You don’t get a say in whether or not I stay or go.”

He turned to Pedro expectantly.

“Bro,” Pedro averted his eyes, guilt filling his voice, “you know you’re always welcome, but if you’re just gonna fight, I don’t want to hang out with  _either_ of you.”

“So  _I’m_ the one who has to leave?” He demanded.

“Well, she  _was_ here first…”

“Fine,” Ben said darkly, “whatever. I see how it is. I’ll just see you in school tomorrow, then.”

When he glanced back at them after pulling out of the driveway, they were poking around the neighbor’s yard looking for the football. Bea pulled it out of a hedge, and it had all but completely deflated. The disappointed look on her face didn’t make him feel any better, though.

 

**.four.**

“I’m just saying, if you’re going on this middle-of-the-night top secret spy mission to try and catch her in the act or whatever, shouldn’t I come  _with_ you? The more witnesses, the better, right?” Ben glanced between Claudio, John, and Pedro, all of whom were scowling, jaws set and eyes dark.  (To be fair, that was basically John’s default setting. But he’d never seen Claud or Pedro look so…  _determined_ before.) “If we’re being honest, I’m still not completely sold on this whole hypothetical Eve situation, but that’s exactly why I think it would be better if –”

“Are you calling me a liar?” John asked, arching his brow.

“Definitely not,” Ben shook his head (god, that kid was  _unnerving_ ). “I’m saying that it’s possible you were  _misinformed_ , that’s all. I mean, what proof do we  _really_ have –”

“That’s the whole point of why we’re going,” Pedro said impatiently, “to  _get_  proof.”

“Okay, right,” Ben said, rubbing at his temples, “but that’s what I’m  _saying_  – so you’re going to skulk around the Duke’s lawn like a bunch of stalker weirdos attempting to catch Hero in this completely hypothetical, probably not even true act –”

“This is  _exactly why_  we don’t want you to come with us, Ben!” Claudio snapped, “you’ve basically already chosen her side! If you think it’s such a stupid plan, why do you want to come so badly?”

“I haven’t taken anybody’s side!” Ben argued, “I’m… reserving judgement. Maybe I want to see it for myself too, have you considered that?”

“You know, Ben,” John observed dryly, “it seems like you care a lot more about protecting Hero than being there for Claudio. And he’s supposed to be your chosen brother.”

“It’s not like that,” Ben shook his head, “if you just look at it objectively –”

“Just drop it, Ben,” Pedro mumbled.

“Yeah, I don’t need your help with this,” Claudio said, “so just – go home and make another stupid video, or something.”

Ben stared at them for a moment, waiting for someone to say something, to apologize or to at least take it back, say they didn’t mean it – but none of them would even meet his gaze.

“You know what? I don’t even care anymore,” He said, crossing to the door, “Have fun waiting for _absolutely nothing_  to happen. Can’t wait to hear all about it.”

“Ben –” Pedro called after him, but his only response was the slamming of the front door.

 

**.five.**

After the party (although  _party_  wasn’t the right way to describe it – it was less of a party, more of a disaster), Beatrice was so focused on Hero that Ben wasn’t sure she even knew he’d stayed. He brought Hero water and once he knew she was okay (well, not  _okay_ – of course she wasn’t  _okay_  – but she wasn’t in any immediate danger) he went to the kitchen, where Balthazar was cleaning up, shoving things in the trash with more force and anger than Ben would’ve guessed he had in him.

“Ursula went after Meg,” He told him, “she figured Hero would only want Bea right now, anyway.”

“And Pedro and Claud…?” Ben trailed off.

Balthazar turned his attention to the counter, and in one swift motion, dumped the entire birthday cake into the trash.

“Gone,” He shrugged. “Probably looking to ruin someone else’s opinions of them, I guess.”

“Oh,” Bea entered the kitchen, looking completely dazed, “you’re still here.”

“How’s Hero?” Ben asked.

“Not good.” She shrugged helplessly. “She’s in her room. I came down to make her tea.”

“I can make her tea,” He offered.  

“No, I’ll do it,” She shook her head, “I need to be doing  _something_  right now. Even if it is small and useless and can’t actually help her.” She reached for the kettle, pausing to turn to Balthazar. “You don’t need to stay, if you don’t want to.”

“I can at least finish cleaning up,” He said. “I don’t mind.”

“No, it’s okay. I appreciate it, but it’s not your mess to clean.”

Balthazar dumped the last of the paper plates into the trash bag, then nodded.

“Okay,” he said, “yeah, I could use a walk, anyway. Tell Hero happy birthday from me? Or maybe don’t. Whatever you think is best.”

Bea nodded, not looking away from the stove top, and Balthazar slipped out. Ben cleared his throat awkwardly.

“I guess I’ll go, too?” He hedged, “I mean, if you don’t need me –”

“Oh.” Bea stilled, hand hovering over the sugar. “Yeah, sure, okay. See you around, I guess.” She went back to her task, smacking down the mug so hard tea sloshed over the sides, spoon clattering next to it.

“Do you, um –” he paused. “Nevermind. Okay. See you later, Bea.”

He got as far as the door before Bea called out to him.

“Wait!” She rushed past him, blocking the door. “Don’t leave.”

“Beatrice?” He frowned, confusion evident.

“I don’t want you to go,” She said quietly. She sounded so small, so uncertain, so unlike her usual self – it was jarring. “I don’t want to be alone right now.”

“But you told Balthazar not to stay,” He said.

“I didn’t want him to,” She turned away, face flushed. “But I – I don’t want _you_ to go.” He didn’t say anything for a moment, and Beatrice took a deep breath. “…Please. Please stay.”

“You want me,  _specifically_  me, to stay?” He asked, filled with disbelief.

“Well you don’t have to make fun of me,” She mumbled, hugging her arms around herself.

“I’m not,” He said quickly, “I swear I’m not. I’m just… surprised, that’s all.”

She looked up, eyes hopeful.

“So you’ll stay?”

“If you want me to.”

“I do,” she said, voice breaking. She let herself fall against him, burying her face in his shoulder. “I really, really want you to stay.”

“Then I will,” He said, wrapping his arms around her. “I’m not going anywhere, Bea.”


	74. Reunion!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for jesuisdansserdaigle, who requested a bea/ben reunion!

“So,” Meg propped her feet on the dashboard and peered at Bea from over the tops of her sunglasses, “what’re you gonna do when you see him?”

“Haven’t decided yet,” Bea frowned, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel, “Maybe kill him? He’s been so  _weird_  lately. Like, weirder than usual. He bailed on three of our skype calls this week. _This_ from the boy who left me an eight minute voicemail telling me I had betrayed the sanctity of the Skype Date when I missed it  _once_  to work late!”

“Sounds like he’s being a little –”

“Don’t do it,” Bea begged, shooting a warning glance her way.

“ _Hyp-o-crit-i-caaaaal,_ ” Meg sang, looking extremely pleased with herself.

“Very nice,” Bea rolled her eyes. “I don’t even know what he’s going to  _do_ when we show up, because of those stupid rules. If it weren’t for them, this would be a totally pleasant trip. But now I don’t know if we’re expected to act like we’re broken up or  _what._  He’s totally ruining this!”

“Um, hello,  _nothing_ could ruin this trip. You’ve got the wind in your hair, your best friend by your side, and a  _killer_ roadtrip playlist – you’re welcome by the way. We’re having an adventure, Beatrice! We’re totally living one of those moments we’ll tell our kids about someday.” She paused and wrinkled her nose. “Or Hero’s kids. I don’t know about you, but I’m still not totally sold on kids. The point  _is_ , this is your life! Embrace that shit, babes.”

“You really do sound like a writer,” Bea laughed. “That magazine is lucky to have you.”

“You don’t have to tell  _me_ ,” Meg grinned, “I’ve been saying that all along.”

-

“So,” Freddie leaned across the table, narrowing her eyes suspiciously, “you must be pretty excited to see Beatrice.”

“I am the appropriate level of excited to see a person I am most definitely not dating,” Ben replied, refusing to meet Freddie’s gaze. “Tooootally casual, normal levels of excitement. All positive feelings. I’m not at all nervous to see the girl I’m not allowed to be with because of the flat rules. Definitely not nervous about how she’s going to react to those rules when we’re in the same place at the same time. Why should I be nervous?”

“ _Super_  convincing, Ben,” Peter said dryly, glancing up from his script, “good thing Costa’s not here or he’d try and recruit you for the play.”

“I’ve got the air mattress all set up,” Balthazar announced, emerging from his room to join the rest of them, “Freds, do you have any extra pillows and blankets they can use?”

“Yeah, I’ll go grab some.” Just as she disappeared into her room, there was a knock at the door.

“That can’t be them already, can it?” Ben asked, face going white, “I thought it was going to take longer than that.”

“It’s definitely them,” Peter said, glancing at his phone, “Meg texted me half an hour ago to say they were almost here.” Ben turned to him, horror-stricken.

“Why didn’t you  _tell me_?! I could’ve been emotionally preparing!”

“I thought this would be more fun,” Peter shrugged, “and hey, I was right!”

“First you don’t answer your phones and then you don’t answer your  _door_?” Meg shouted, “Let us in before we  _break_ in, losers!”

Balthazar laughed, glancing between Ben and the door.

“Do you wanna get it, or should I?”

“No, I’ll do it,” Ben sighed, resigned. “I’ve got to face her sometime, right?”

He paused for just a moment in front of the door, then nodded to himself once before throwing it open.

“Bennybabe!” Meg threw her arms around him and planted a wet, sloppy kiss on his cheek, then pushed past him and gave Balthazar and Peter the same greeting. But Ben didn’t even react, didn’t even seem to register Meg’s presence. He was rooted to the spot, frozen, eyes locked with Beatrice, who stood stock-still doorway and was staring right back. Her whole face went soft, her eyes wide and mouth slightly agape, like she was surprised to find him standing before her.

Ben, too, was looking at Beatrice like he’d never seen her before. He hadn’t realized until that moment that he’d forgotten what if felt like to really  _see_  Beatrice. All those months away had erased the small things from his memory – the exact hue of her eyes, how long her hair had gotten. The way her fingers curled and uncurled at her side when she was nervous. He could reach out and touch her if he wanted. She wasn’t just a face on a screen, wasn’t just a voice on the other end of the phone – she was real, and she was  _Beatrice_ , and she was  _right there_.

“Hi,” she said after what felt like a lifetime, voice gentle and uncharacteristically shy.

“Hi,” he echoed, and he crossed the distance between them in three swift steps, immediately wrapping his arms around her waist and drawing her into a kiss.

Bea’s arms were around him in an instant, springing up on her toes and pressing against him. Meg whooped with glee, pulling out her phone to snap a picture.

“I have plenty of blankets but only one extra pil –  _whoa!_ Nonononono!” Freddie cried, letting the pillow she was holding drop to the floor, “Rules, rules, rules!”

“You’re definitely getting punished for that one, bro.” Peter tossed a pencil at him, and it bounced off of Ben’s shoulder, completely unnoticed.

“Go ahead,” Ben said when he broke apart from Bea, his gaze never leaving her face, “she’s worth it.”


	75. Under Pressure!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for sunnysucculents, who prompted me the opening sentence "Benedick never ever thought he'd end up mostly naked on the counter in a bar, swinging his shirt over his head and belting out the lyrics to Queen, but here he is and there's his shirt and Beatrice looks not pleased".

Benedick never ever thought he’d end up mostly naked on the counter in a bar, swinging his shirt over his head and belting out the lyrics to Queen, but here he is and there’s his shirt and Beatrice looks not pleased.

“If this is supposed to get me to stop being mad at you,” She snapped, “it’s not working!”

“Maybe he’s finally crumbled under the  _pressure_  of those stupid rules,” Meg suggested, laughing into her drink as Ben sang along:  _why can’t we give love, give love, give love, give love…_

“You’re going to get us kicked out, idiot,” Bea shouted, shooting a glare at Meg when she pulled out the camera, “put your clothes back on!”

“Not until you get up here and sing with me!” Ben reached his hand out to her, grinning hopefully. “You love this song and I know it!”

“If this winds up on youtube, you’re  _both_  dead to me,” She threatened, but she allowed herself to be pulled up onto the bar anyway.


	76. Rule Breakers!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for anon, who prompted me the sentence "'Ha! I knew they were breaking the rules!' Peter exclaimed".

“Ha! I knew they were breaking the rules!” Peter exclaimed. 

“What? No!” Ben immediately jumped back from Beatrice, crashing into the side of the tent, “Meg, you were supposed to be the lookout!” 

“Hm?” She poked her head in, smirking. “Oh, right. Someone’s coming.”

“Peter, my pal, my friend, my flatmate,” Ben scrambled desperately, “we don’t have to tell Freddie about this, right?”

“Sorry, bro,” Peter held up the camera, “this thing doesn’t lie. Besides, if I had to get punished for kissing someone in a  _play_ , you’re definitely getting punished for kissing your  _girlfriend._ ”

“Can I help come up with the punishment?” Bea asked, eyes lighting up. 

“Traitor!” Ben cried, clutching his chest dramatically.

“Oh man,” Peter grinned, “this is gonna be  _good._ ”


	77. Chaperones!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for deducingthechosenone74, who prompted the sentence "'Ben, will you go with me?' Bea asked expectantly".

“Ben, will you go with me?” Bea asked expectantly. 

“He can’t,” Freddie blurted, and when Bea’s gaze turned steely, she added: “not without a third party present. Sorry.”

“’ _Sorry_ ’?” Bea repeated, disbelief written all over her face, “They’re  _literally_  self-imposed rules.” 

“I’ll be the chaperon,” Meg volunteered, but Freddie immediately shook her head.

“No way. Sorry, but - for all we know, you’ll just look the other way while they’re… kissing or something.”

”I’ll go,” Kit offered, shrugging easily, “I’ve got to head down that way for work, anyway.”

“Oh, perfect! Why don’t we all go, then?” Freddie was already reaching for her jacket. “I could use some coffee.”

“Is this a joke?” Bea balked. “I’m literally just going to the grocery store, I don’t need an army of escorts.”

“It’s not so bad,” Balthazar said. “I’ll even hold Ben’s hand so you can do it without breaking the rules, if you want.”

“Did I mention you’re my favorite flatmate?” Ben beamed, taking each of their hands in his own, “because you really are.”


	78. Haunted Flat!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: my flat is haunted!

**_1:15am_ **

Jaquie and Peter were halfway through their second movie and third bowl of popcorn when a pounding knock came at the door.

“ _You_ get it,” Jaquie said, pressing her foot against Peter’s thigh.

“It’s your flat!” Peter laughed, grabbing the popcorn bowl from off of Jaquie’s lap, “ _you_ get it.”

“It’s one in the morning,” She protested, “I’m not answering it, it’s obviously a murderer.”

“I think you’re like, a billion times more qualified to fend off a murderer than I am,” Peter pointed out, “you’re terrifying.”

There was another thunderous knock, followed by a muffled shout: _“Jaquie! Jaquie Manders! This is your friend and director, Costa McClure! It’s an emergency!”_

Jaquie and Peter exchanged glances, both of them rolling their eyes before swinging their legs off the couch and crossing the room to let Costa in.

“Real emergency, or play emergency?” Jaquie asked, leaned against the doorframe, giving Costa a once-over. He had an enormous backpack on, a hardhat with a flashlight duct taped to it perched on his head, and his camera at the ready.

“While I resent the implication that a play emergency isn’t a _real_ emergency, this is an entirely separate matter. May I come in?” Jaquie stepped aside, and Costa bustled past her. “Oh! Peter! I didn’t expect to see you here. Don’t your flat rules dictate that you’re meant to be home at this hour? That’s the whole reason I didn’t seek you out first! That, and I called you a dozen times. You never picked up.”

“I left my phone in my room,” Peter said, “and those rules are stupid. I don’t care about the punishments.”

“So your flatmates know you’re here, then?”

“As if,” Jaquie smirked, “he said he was going to bed early and then snuck out his window.”

“It’s just not worth the hassle,” Peter grumbled.

“At any rate, I’m glad to see you’re here, too,” Costa clapped him on the back, “my two best friends! It’s perfect.”

“So wait,” Jaquie frowned, “I’m the _backup friend_ in an emergency?”

“Only because I didn’t think you’d be interested,” Costa admitted. “I’m not sure if you’re aware, but you have quite the air of… _apathy_. It’s all part of your charm, of course!”

“Hm,” Jaquie considered, “that’s fair.”

“So what’s the emergency?” Peter asked.

“Ah! Of course!” Costa clapped his hands together, “The entire purpose of my visit! There’s been an incident at my flat. A series of incidents, as a matter of fact! It appears that I have an intruder.”

“Holy shit, Costa,” Jaquie’s eyes widened, “were you _robbed?_ ”

“We have to call the police,” Peter said immediately, “Jaquie, where’s your phone?”

“No no no,” Costa shook his head, “it’s not an  _earthly_ intruder… it’s a paranormal one! I believe I’m being visited by a spiritual entity, and I have the footage to prove it!”

“So… a ghost,” Jaquie deadpanned.

“ _Precisely,_ Jaquie!” Costa pointed at her, beaming. “And I need help from the two of you! We’re going on a ghost hunt!”

“Costa, come on,” Peter sighed, “if you’re that bored, why don’t you just join us for the rest of our movie night?”

“This is bigger than movie night, Peter,” Costa shook his head, “this is bigger than life itself! We need to crack this, to find out everything we can about our departed visitor so I can write my next play about it. It’ll be my greatest work yet! I’ve already started brainstorming. It’s going to have a Martin McDonagh, Conor McPherson vibe to it -”

“Okay,” Jaquie said, “I’m in.”

“You can’t be serious!” Peter gaped at her.

“What? Our movie is boring.” Jaquie shrugged, then turned to Costa. “Is there alcohol at your place, or should I bring mine?”

“That’s the spirit, Jaquie!” Costa pumped his fist. “Well, Peter? Can we count on you to complete our trio? I’ve already written you into the play, so for the sake of _legitimacy_ in theatre, it would really be best if you came along.”

“Fine,” Peter sighed, “but you can’t put any footage of this online until the stupid rules get sorted out. The last thing I need is Ben and Freddie giving me more shit.”

“Strictly for posterity,” Costa promised, “research purposes only.”

  


**_1:32am_ **

There was only room for one other person on Costa’s scooter, so Jaquie volunteered to walk beside them while Peter rode along. She even took the camera from Costa to document some of it.

“Here we have Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb, ghost hunters extraordinaire,” She intoned. “I think I speak for all New Zealand when I say I’ve never felt safer.”

“I better be Tweedle Dee,” Peter frowned.

“I have no issue being Tweedle Dumb,” Costa interjected, “people used to call Albert Einstein dumb, and look how he turned out!”

“Yeah, I don’t think anyone ever called _Einstein_ dumb,” Peter snorted. “Eccentric, maybe.”

“Thing One and Thing Two, then,” Jaquie sighed.

Costa paused a stop sign and turned, looking directly into the camera.

“I _insist_ on being Thing One,” he said.

“Does that make you the Cat in the Hat?” Peter wrinkled his brow, looking up at Jaquie.

“It makes me the brains of the outfit,” she said, then she gave them both an appraising look - they made a ridiculous pair, huddled up on Costa’s scooter, toddling along slow enough that she didn’t even have to break a sweat to keep up. “But that’s not saying much, when it comes to you two.”

  


**_1:52am_ **

Costa’s flat was a mess. Notebooks and loose papers scattered everywhere, post it notes with half baked ideas scribbled across them (things like _“Andrew Lloyd Webber’s CATS except every actor is paired up with a REAL CAT - talk to chelsey & paige about borrowing theirs” _ and _“Streetcar Named Desire where Stella and Blanche are played by the same woman????”_ ).

“So… no flatmates?” Jaquie guessed.

“Can’t seem to get any of them to stick around,” Costa confirmed, “it’s the darndest thing! Still trying to find that ideal roommate match. You know how it goes.”

“So where do we start?” Peter asked, side stepping a stack of well-worn plays.

“The latest incident occurred in the dining room,” Costa explained, “I was working on some of the Faustus props -” he pointed to a pile of popsicle sticks and a glue gun, “and a glass suddenly fell from the far end of the table and smashed to the floor!”

“So you just left broken glass on the floor?” Jaquie raised a brow at him, then cast a look at the shards on the floor. “Kind of a hazard, isn’t it?”

“Do you have a broom? Or a dustpan?” Peter asked, and Costa pulled one from the closet, handing it over.

“Are you sure it wasn’t just too close to the edge of the table?”

“Positive,” Costa said seriously, “it’s all on camera. Here, let me show you!”

Jaquie caught him the collar, stopping him just before he tripped over the dustpan now filled with broken glass. He gave her a sheepish smile, and she rolled her eyes, releasing him only after Peter had swept it all up and carried it to the trashcan. Costa grabbed his camera, rewinding the footage until he found what he was looking for.

“Aha! Here it is. Gather round, gather round!” Jaquie and Peter came up on either side of him, their shoulders pressing against his as they leaned in to watch. “Pay attention to the glass, now…”

There was Costa, sitting at the table, a fistfull of popsicle sticks in one hand and the glue gun in the other. He dripped hot glue on his fingers, howling in pain, and Jaquie let out a laugh, covering her mouth to try and stifle it.

“Pay attention to the _glass_ , Jaquie,” Costa repeated, “not my agonizing injuries! It’s the least of my sacrifices for the arts, anyway.”

Sure enough, after a few more seconds, a few papers on the table began to blow around, and they watched as the glass slid off the edge, shattering.  

“See? _Paranormal._ ” Costa flicked the camera off and set it down on the table. “Irrefutable evidence!”

“I don’t know if I’d call it _irrefutable_ ,” Peter said, jerking his head towards the wide open window, “seems more likely that the wind did it.”

“No, that doesn’t seem very likely at all,” Costa frowned.

“Costa,” Jaquie said, “we live in the windiest city in the world. Of _course_ it wasn’t a ghost.”

“I understand why you’re skeptical,” Costa said, “it’s hard to open yourself up to the fact that we aren’t alone in the world. But the dead are still among us, Jaquie!”

“Like zombies and vampires?” Peter grinned.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Peter,” Costa dismissed, “you know very well vampires and zombies don’t exist.”

“Right,” Jaquie bit her lip to hide her smile, “Peter’s the one who’s being ridiculous right now.”

“You can try and blame the wind for that broken glass all you want, but here’s something you _can’t_ blame on the wind: I was showering this morning and when I emerged, someone had drawn what looked to be a _smiley face_ in the steam on the mirror!” Costa reached for his phone, flipping through the pictures and holding it out to them. “I think we can all agree that no breeze could’ve been the culprit _there_.”

“Costa, no offense, but _you_ could’ve -” Peter began, but Jaquie elbowed him sharply in the ribs, shooting him a look.

“Wow, Costa,” She said, “you’ve got us there.”

“ _Thank_ you, Jaquie,” Costa smiled broadly at her, “I knew I could count on you. See, this is how we know it’s a _benevolent_ spirit. They’re reaching out to us, trying to communicate! Trying to form a friendship, a _bond_. It’s up to us to find out everything we can and tell their story!”

“We need to buckle down and get serious,” Jaquie declared, “we need a base of operations. Costa, go get every pillow and blanket you can. And do you have any clothes pins around?”

“What are the clothespins for?” Peter asked, as Costa bounded up the stairs.

“We’re building a fort,” Jaquie said, “obviously.”

 

**_2:53am_ **

“Why exactly are we going along with this?” Peter whispered, when Costa ducked out of the fort to grab more snacks for everyone. “Don’t tell me you actually believe he’s being haunted.”

Jaquie rolled over onto her stomach, propping herself up by her elbows.

“Of course I don’t believe he’s being haunted,” She said, “but our night was super boring until he showed up. You have to admit this is fun. When’s the last time you built a fort?”

“Actually, living with Ben, this happens at least twice a semester,” Peter confessed. “Right around exams. He assigns us all different tasks and makes us sleep in it when it’s done.”

“That seems too fun to be allowed in your flat,” Jaquie observed, and Peter laughed. Jaquie peered through the opening to the fort, watching Costa in the kitchen, dumping various snacks into one enormous bowl. “Anyways, look how happy it makes him. He’s probably super bored all the time, living alone. And he’s the one who’s always going on about how ‘Fautus is family’ and all that stupid stuff.”

“Are you going soft, Manders?” Peter smirked, and Jaquie glared.

“Never,” She said, and she snatched the vodka she’d brought out of her purse, taking a long swig right from the bottle.

“Let’s give him something to write about.” Peter poked his head out of the fort, eyes landing on the broom, propped up against the wall. He reached over and tapped it, sending it crashing to the floor.

“What was that?!” Costa shouted from the kitchen.

“I don’t know, the broom just fell!” Peter called back, grinning at Jaquie. “Just out of nowhere!”

“Did you get it on film?” Costa dove head first into the fort, a wild excitement in his eyes.

“No, we were in here the whole time,” Peter shook his head, “we totally missed it, sorry Costa.”

Costa took him by both shoulders, gripping him tightly.

“Peter Donaldson, don’t you dare apologize,” He said. “What matters is that you’re here. We’re going to solve this thing, even if -”

“Even if it takes all night,” Jaquie finished. Costa blinked, turning to her.

“I was going to say forever,” He said. Jaquie’s eyes widened.

“Jesus,” she muttered, and she took another swig from the bottle.

 

**_3:41am_ **

“Since we’re all here,” Jaquie said, casting a hopeful glance Costa’s way, “maybe we can go over some of Peter’s and my scenes? Really dig in, get some direction?”

“Some direction would be great,” Peter agreed, “even just some general blocking, maybe, would be helpful.”

“Oh, there’s no time for that,” Costa said, shaking his head, “we can’t lose focus. If we get distracted by Faustus, we might miss the ghost revealing themselves to us, and we can’t risk that.”

Jaquie groaned and flopped backwards onto a pile of pillows. Peter sighed, giving her hand a sympathetic pat.

“You tried,” He said.

 

**_4:58am_ **

“New idea!” Costa leapt up, grabbing his phone as he did. “We’re going to record ourselves talking to the ghost. I’ve seen this a million times on television, I don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner! Sometimes technology picks up sounds at a higher frequency than we can register ourselves.”

“Is that fact,” Jaquie raised her brow.

“I hesitate to use the term professional in this situation at all,” Peter said, “but don’t _professional_ ghost hunters have real equipment? I mean, they don’t just use their phones, right?”

“ _Improvisation_ , Peter,” Costa said patiently, patting Peter’s cheek, “we’ve got work with what we have.”

He clicked the record button and set the phone down between the three of them. Jaquie popped a handful of jelly beans into her mouth, watching everything with a bemused look on her face.

“Dear Spirit,” Costa began, his voice booming throughout the fort, “we come in peace. We’re here to help you cross over to the other side. We’re prepared to do whatever it takes to grant you a safe voyage. Clearly, there’s something from your life that you’re still clinging onto. What unfinished business do you have? What can we do for you?”

“Or, I don’t know,” Peter shrugged, “maybe at least just tell us your name or something.”

“That’s a good point,” Costa nodded, “smart thinking, Peter. We haven’t even introduced ourselves. My name is Costa McClure, playwright, director, actor - I do it all. Except choreography, I’m not very good at that. Yet. These are my friends -”

“Oh, now we’re just his _friends_ ,” Jaquie said, mock-wounded, “a few hours ago, we were his _best_ friends. We’ve been downgraded, Peter.”

“Is this ghost replacing us, Costa?” Peter grinned. “Do we have to fight the ghost to earn our rank back?”

“ _Sincerest_ apologies,” Costa looked stricken, “these are my _best_ friends, very sorry about the mixup there. Would you like to introduce yourselves to our metaphysical friend, or shall I?”

“Jaquie,” Jaquie waved at a blank spot in the fort, “what’s up, ghost.”

“I’m Peter,” he ran a hand through his hair, offering a sheepish grin to Jaquie and Costa, “um, hi ghost?”

“And now we’ll just give them a few minutes of complete silence to say anything else they may want to say,” Costa finished, folding his hands across his lap and leaning forward, as though there might’ve been something to hear.

“Costa -”

“A few minutes of complete silence,” He repeated, holding up a hand.

“But -”

“ _Complete silence_ , please.” Peter glanced over at Jaquie, but she gave a slight shake of her head, shielding her face from his as she tried to fight off a laugh. When Costa decided enough time had gone by, he reached for his phone and clicked off the recorder. “Alright then! Let’s see what our friend has told us.”

They listened as he replayed the conversation they’d all just had. It was exactly as it had been moments ago: just their three voices, empty gaps in between where Costa was waiting for a ghost to talk back.

“Well, I won’t lie to you,” He sighed, letting his phone drop as the recording finished, “this is a bit of a setback. Rather disappointing, to be honest. I can’t help but be a little disheartened. I really thought that one was going to work.”

Jaquie’s eyes flickered to Peter, and she nudged her knee against his expectantly.

“Ah, come on, Costa,” Peter let his hand rest on Costa’s shoulder, “don’t let it get you down. Maybe they’re just… not ready to talk yet.”

“I see…” Costa trailed off, mulling it over. “So you think the ghost isn’t sure they can trust us yet?”

“Maybe they _like_ being a ghost,” Jaquie offered, “maybe they don’t want to cross over because they won’t get to hang out around here anymore.”

“You’re saying the ghost can’t stand to be parted from me?” Costa asked. Peter shrugged.

“Something like that, sure,” Jaquie said. Costa let that sink in, smiling to himself.

“I suppose I’ve grown rather accustomed to their presence, too,” he said, “it would be sad to see them go.” He paused, realization dawning, and his smile gave way to a frown. “But now I don’t have _any_ material for my play! It was going to be my greatest yet, and now I’ve got _nothing._ ”

“Are you kidding? This just turned into a way better play,” Peter encouraged, “A boy and his ghost roommate. Think of all the wacky hijinks those characters would get up to.”

“Heartwarming _and_ hysterical,” Jaquie said solemnly, nodding.

“Ooooh, I _like_ that!” Costa’s smile was back and bigger than ever. “Quick, someone pass me my notebook! I can see it now. The staging, the use of lighting… there’s so much room to _play_! That’s what a play is all about, you know, it’s called a _play_ for a reason -”

“Yeah,” Peter said fondly, “we’ve heard your speech about it.”

 

**_5:33am_ **

Costa bounced ideas off them for a while, scribbling things down in the notebook as he went, until finally he hit a lull and Jaquie seized the opportunity.

“You’re cut off,” She announced, “You need to get some _sleep_. We all do.”

“You’re right, of course,” Costa surrendered, when she pried the notebook out of his hands, “best to let the ideas ruminate for a bit. Oh, and I know you’re both probably terribly worried about this, so don’t be - I fully intend to give you both credit as my inspiration for this play. There will be a whole chapter about this night in my eventual memoirs - the night I wrote the greatest play of the twenty-first century.”

“Well, thank god,” Jaquie teased, “that puts my restless mind at ease, for sure.”

“Stop hogging the pillows,” Peter complained, yanking one out from underneath her, “you’ve got like, _eight_ under there.”

“I like to feel like I’m sleeping on a cloud, so sue me,” She shrugged.

“We should do this more often,” Costa said, grabbing a pillow for himself and burrowing down in his sleeping bag.

“Hang out outside of rehearsals, or ghost hunt?” Peter asked.

“Both,” Costa said, “either one.”

“I’m down,” Jaquie said, “but only if I can drive the scooter next time.”

 

**_6:40am_ **

Peter’s alarm woke them all up.

“Turn that thing _off_ ,” Jaquie snarled, burying her head in a pillow, “we _just_ got to sleep.”

“You can stay asleep,” Peter said, “I have to go.”

“Don’t leave yet,” Costa muttered, eyes still screwed shut and voice tired, “I was going to make everyone breakfast.”

“Can you even cook?” Jaquie grumbled.

“That’s what we’re going to find out.”

“I really should go,” Peter said, sounding truly regretful, “Freddie and Ben come barging in at exactly seven every morning to make sure everyone’s in their beds and alone. I locked my door, but it’ll take more than that to stop them.”

“Balth won’t cover for you anymore?” Jaquie asked, stretching her arms up over her head and blinking her eyes open, “He did the last two times you snuck out.”

“I feel guilty,” Peter admitted, “having him lie for me. I don’t want to take advantage.”

“So noble,” She smirked.

“Maybe we should make _you_ Good Angel in our production,” Costa added, but his playful smile quickly disappeared. “That’s preposterous. I can’t even joke about it, I’m sorry I said anything. You’re the perfect Faustus, I’d never dream of recasting you.”

“Thanks, Costa,” Peter laughed, “that’s good to know.”

“I can’t believe you’re _seriously_ going back to the flat from hell,” Jaquie said, “ _especially_ when you could hang here and watch Costa struggle to make breakfast.”

“I don’t think it’s fair to call it a _struggle_ ,” Costa considered, “how hard could it be?”

“Believe me, I’d much rather stay here,” Peter assured them, “this is the most fun I’ve had in months.”

Jaquie chewed her lip, watching Peter fumble around the fort as he gathered up his belongings, then slid her glance over to Costa.

“Maybe you should move,” She said. “When the semester ends.”

“I’ve thought about it,” Peter sighed, “but I don’t even know where to start looking.”

“Costa’s got room,” Jaquie said, then she raised a brow at Costa, “if the ghost is okay with that, of course.”

“I’m sure the ghost would be fine with it,” Costa’s grin went from ear to ear, “I’d be happy to have you move in with me, Peter! Think of all the creative energy that would fill this space!”

“Really?” Peter asked, surprised.

“Of _course_ ,” Costa nodded, “it would be the best flat in all of Wellington!”

“Maybe I will,” Peter said, a slow smile spreading across his face, “in fact, yeah. Let’s do it.”

“Come to think of it, Jaquie,” Costa turned, “I know your flat situation isn’t nearly as dire as Peter’s, but if you’d _like_ , there’s one more empty room I’m trying to fill. No pressure, of course! But if you’re not particularly attached to your _current_ flat -”

“What the hell,” She shrugged, “why not, right?”

“Wait, is this seriously happening?” Peter asked, disbelieving. “Come next semester, the three of us are living together?”

“I have so many plans already,” Costa said, scrambling for his notebook, “there’s so much to do!”

“I’m guessing that’s a yes,” Jaquie smirked, then glanced at her phone. “But in the meantime, you’re about to get caught breaking a rule.”

“Shit,” Peter grabbed for his jacket, crawling out of the fort. “Gotta go.”

“See you at rehearsal tonight, future flatmate!” Costa called after him.

“Dibs on the bigger room!” Jaquie cried.

 

**_7:02am_ **

Freddie and Ben were waiting on his bed when he got back. Freddie gave him a twelve minute lecture on the importance of following the rules, and Ben took way too much pleasure in devising a punishment - but Peter barely cared. Jaquie had posted a photo to instagram, a bored-looking selfie with Peter and Costa in the background on the scooter. She captioned it: _cannot believe what i’m getting myself into next semester…_

Peter grinned.

It was definitely worth the punishment.

**Author's Note:**

> if you want to join in on the fun, you can send me a prompt too! xxbillieshears.tumblr.com/ask


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